


Vanguard

by Aeremaee, layersofart (layersofsilence)



Series: MCU Stories [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A Whole Forest of Pining, Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexuality, Ensemble Cast, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gods, Hydra (Marvel), Kitchen Sink Dungeons & Dragons, M/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, Necromancy, Pining, Rule 0: the DM does what she wants, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 15:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21147647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeremaee/pseuds/Aeremaee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/layersofsilence/pseuds/layersofart
Summary: “I found out what it was you weren’t telling me,” Steve said.“That you broke his heart, and broke yours at the same time, and that you both fixed your own hearts with pieces of the other’s, and you’re building a dream together, except it also made you inseparable and kind of co-dependent?” Sam replied, unimpressed. “I wonder why we didn’t lead with that. ‘Yeah, you’re seeing memory flashes of this guy’s tattoos because you told him you couldn’t be together and then proceeded to marry him in all but name and now you can’t live without each other.’ Don’t give me that look, Steven.”





	Vanguard

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you first and foremost to Layersofsilence for creating the magnificent pieces you're going to see throughout this story. Thank you for bringing my story to life <3
> 
> Thank you to the CABB Mods, who do a fantastic job and who made this a great experience <3
> 
> Thank you, Nina, for betaing and cheerleading <3
> 
> And thank you, for choosing this story <3

Bucky woke up with the sun on his face. He dozed for just a little longer. There was no rush today, no meetings, no missions or assignments, no one coming in, no petitioners. An excellent occasion for a luxurious breakfast.

_You up?_ he missived. The only reply was a muffled groan. Bucky smiled fondly and rolled out of bed.

Twenty minutes later he settled in with his tray at one of the long tables on the mess room terrace, listened to the leaves rustle and the birds sing, cradled his mug of tea in both hands in between bites and watched the sun rise over the trees, until finally Steve arrived, fresh from morning prayers and somehow still bleary eyed. His warm fingers squeezed the back of Bucky’s neck and then grabbed the cup of coffee Bucky had set out for him, made just right, before he dropped down heavily on the bench on the opposite side and almost gulped it down.

"Good morning, gorgeous," Bucky said. Steve gave him The Look. Bucky grinned broadly and popped another bite of fruit into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously.

“You’re disgusting,” Steve said, voice still rough, sipping the last of the coffee. The leaves still rustled. The birds still sang. The low voices of the other inhabitants of the Citadel as they came outside to start their own day began to mix in with theirs. Steve smiled at him and Bucky smiled back.

Perfect.

Wanda dropped herself in Bucky’s lap and stole his last piece of toast. Steve pointed his now empty mug at her.

“It’s too early for shenanigans,” he urged.

“Whatever you say, boss,” she said, saluting him with the toast before taking a giant bite.

They enjoyed the quiet for a few more minutes. Bucky finished his fruit. Wanda finished Bucky’s toast. Steve finished Bucky’s tea and heaved a sigh.

“I better get to my office before I incur the wrath of Carter,” he said.

“Remind her she promised to leave me alone today,” Bucky said. Steve made a face. Bucky smiled fondly.

“Does that mean we have time for that spellwork today?” Wanda asked.

“In a minute,” Bucky replied, watching Steve walk away.

“You’re the worst,” Wanda grinned.

“I’m living my best life,” Bucky sniffed.

They did go to work on some spells. They were trying to come up with a way to make stored divine power accessible to everyone, so that even vanguard units without a healer or whose healer was incapacitated could easily patch themselves up without breakable potions. They’d actually had some luck towards a ritual that allowed arcane casters like them to use divine scrolls, which had always been considered impossible, but it was still too difficult for general use.

Dum Dum and Gabe came by to hang out and were immediately set to scribing more test scrolls for them until the rest of the Howling Commandoes came to fetch them for lunch. Along the way they picked up Sam and Sharon. Helen happened to be going over some documents in her office, so they brought her along too. They settled in at one of the long tables and listened to Dum Dum spinning a tale, with frequent interruptions by the other Howlies. As the vanguard’s first unit, they were sent out most often and as such, always returned with the wildest stories. Bucky usually went with them, but would confirm nor deny their veracity. Sure, there were official after action reports, but no one bothered with those who didn’t need to. The stories were too good to spoil with facts.

After lunch there was some paperwork, because there was always paperwork, which no one had told Bucky about when they made him head of the vanguard – never mind that the vanguard as a whole had been mostly his idea.

After that though, it was time for the fun stuff. All members of the vanguard currently at the Citadel met on the training grounds especially designed for them to work on group manoeuvres, combat techniques, tactics, new weapon skills, and much more. Thousands of people depended on them being the best of the best, after all; it was why Steve and Bucky had recruited every single one of them, and they took great pride in that.

Bucky spent some time watching his people work. Clint was hitting targets from ridiculously far away. Natasha was teaching a few casters how to properly use a knife. One of them looked a little queasy at the prospect. Unit two were doing shield formations while unit three was trying to get past their defences. The off-duty members of unit five, the Citadel Guard, were doing sword drills. Unit one, the Howling Commandoes, were messing around, as usual.

Bucky, Wanda and most of the arcane casters not assigned to permanent units were set to do speed drills today – they would all be doing the same spell and fire it off over and over, fast as they could. Nullifying targets were set up for them across the field.

“Let’s go with something a little complicated today,” Bucky suggested, “and not do boring magic missiles. Orb spells?”

They nodded and got into position, immediately launching orbs of all elements at the targets, which helpfully displayed force of impact and casting speed in colourful letters in the air above their heads. Bucky stuck to his favourite, acid. Wanda was doing ice. Leo had discovered a way to halve his casting time by using only one hand to shape the spell, and then alternating rapidly. He was just excitedly explaining the technique when Steve and Peggy walked onto the training grounds.

“Must you do this every time he comes to watch?” Wanda murmured when she saw Bucky perk up. He just grinned wildly in reply and jogged over to where the rest of the Howlies were goofing off.

“Fancy a bit of real training, gentlemen?”

Gabe looked from Bucky to where Steve was talking to one of Natasha’s victims and back. “He already knows how good you are, Barnes,” he smirked.

“Can’t have him forget what he keeps me around for, can I?” Bucky replied lightly.

“Uhu,” Morita said, making a face. “Let’s go then. No magic?”

“None whatsoever,” Bucky grinned, already twirling his morning star. The five others gave each other a nod and went for him with a roar.

The enchantments on the melee training grounds were a thing of beauty. Bucky’s uncle Stark had jumped planes for a few days to help set them up. Spells could be cast but would have no effect except a colourful aura to indicate a hit. Weapons could be wielded as normal but left no injuries. People training would get tired slower and recuperate faster. Mostly all of this meant that none of the Howlies held back even a little when they came at him.

It was a type of training they did often, taking turns in the middle. It helped them learn to fend off multiple attackers, but also helped them fight in close quarters with perfect coordination, so that Dum Dum’s heavy warhammer would not get in the way of Morita’s katana, or that Gabe’s swords wouldn’t interfere with Falsworth’s short range knives or Dernier’s pike. In a real combat scenario at least two of them would always be more to the back, casting spells or attacking at range, but it was still a very useful skill to keep honed.

Bucky knew he probably wouldn’t be able to keep it up for very long. Close combat was not his strength, even if he was no slouch. For the first few moments his mace and morning star whirled and he stepped quick and light, blocking and dodging, but soon he started slipping up, leaving openings for the others to take advantage of, and they immediately pressed in. Even though Bucky was well aware of his mistakes, their fight still made for a very impressive display, and everyone else stopped to watch what they were doing.

Right when Bucky would have had to call it, Steve’s strong voice rang out.

“Switch!”

Instantly they turned on him, six against one, against Steve fully armoured, wielding his tower shield and swinging a massive claymore one-handed.

There was never any doubt as to who would come out on top.

Dum Dum held out the longest – he’d gotten a second wind when he’d spotted Natasha sneaking up behind Steve, but ultimately he’d taken a hit full on the shoulder and went down just as she leapt, leaving Steve free enough to catch her on his shield and carry her around a little, to her delight. Eventually she jumped off with an elegant flip. People applauded.

Steve dismissed his equipment and came over to help the fallen Howlies back to their feet. He drew Bucky into his side for just a moment.

“Done for the day?” the sorcerer asked.

“Yep,” the cleric replied, “Peggy’s released me. I promised Helen I’d drop by the clinic, but I’ll meet you for dinner after?” His smile turned sly. “You could do with a shower.”

Bucky pinched his side. “Sure,” he said, “see you in a bit.”

By the time Steve rapped his knuckles on the doorpost of Bucky’s quarters, he was showered and dressed, and making a mess of braiding his hair back. Steve smiled and dropped heavily on one of the sofa’s cluttering the sitting area. Bucky sat on the floor in front of him and let Steve’s practiced fingers comb through his hair and weave the strands out of his face. They didn’t talk. Steve took his time. Bucky leaned back against his legs and dozed.

“All done,” Steve finally said, running his fingers down Bucky’s neck and shoulders.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Bucky said fondly. “Let’s go eat before they run out of dessert.”

Steve laughed, throwing his head back. Bucky rolled to his feet and pulled him up off the couch, reeled him in and slung an arm around his shoulders. Steve wrapped an arm around his waist in return and they swanned down the hallways to the mess, where they finally separated to join their friends at one of the tables. They ate and talked and laughed until it was time for service.

Bucky joined them to hear Steve speak, but he stood at the back. Wanda showed up after a while, too. She threaded her arm through his and lay her head on his shoulder.

“He’s really good at that,” she said. “They’re very lucky with him as their high priest.”

“Thinking of converting?” Bucky smiled.

“Just here to say good night,” she smiled back.

He kissed the top of her head and she went off. Bucky spent one more moment taking in the magnificence of the temple, the warmth of Steve’s voice, the flickering of the candles, and went back out to the mess terrace to enjoy another cup of tea and the balmy spring evening.

Steve joined him some time later, cradling a mug of coffee.

“Wanda said your people are very lucky to have you,” Bucky said.

“You’re all my people,” Steve said. “You know that, right? And her?”

“Yeah, Stevie, we do,” Bucky assured him, putting his right hand over one of Steve’s and squeezing a little. Steve turned his hand over and squeezed back. They held on while they finished their drinks.

Finally Bucky pulled his hand back so he could stretch his back and shoulders. Something popped and he groaned. Steve lay a warm hand on the back of Bucky’s neck. Divine energy flowed between them, soothing all of Bucky’s aches.

“Thanks,” he smiled.

“Any time,” Steve winked.

“Time for bed, I think,” Bucky said.

“Probably best, yeah,” Steve said.

They lingered for a little longer.

“Come on, Buck,” Steve finally said, getting up and holding out a hand.

Bucky let himself be pulled to his feet and they walked through the quiet Citadel, bumping shoulders, until they came to the last intersection.

“Sweet dreams, Stevie,” Bucky said.

Steve kissed his temple. “Good night, Buck,” he said.

They walked away. Bucky only looked back once, when he was sure Steve had already rounded the next corner, then shook himself and went into his quarters to go through the usual motions and finally to sleep. If he dreamed, he didn’t remember.

The next morning, Steve was gone.

“Look, I’m not trying to say there’s no problem. There might well be a problem. I’m just saying it’s not the first time,” Sam said.

“You have a point, but sudden disappearances usually mean the _two_ of them disappear,” Clint said.

“Also he usually takes his arms and armour,” Natasha said. “Even his holy symbol was still on the side table.”

“Also usually they turn up somewhere when you scry for them,” Wanda said.

“And if everything was all right he would have found a way to contact us by now,” Peggy said.

“The same kind of magic that prevents us from finding him may also be blocking any communication spells he’s trying to send out to us,” Gabe said.

“All right,” Sam said. “So there’s probably a big problem.”

They were in Steve’s office, as if somehow that would help them find him, sitting on any available surface. Bucky was slouched very deeply on a sofa, feeling like he might never breathe properly again. There was a constant pressure on his chest and the back of his mind kept screaming at him. He hadn’t slept well in days.

“It’s been a week,” he croaked. “Even without his spell focus he’s an expert in travel magic, he knows how to break wards and barriers and how to communicate even across planes. He’s in trouble.”

“I feel this is where the more mundane of us come in,” Sharon said. “If magic can’t find him, we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”

“We’ve already contacted a bunch of friends and allies,” Dum Dum pointed out. “No one has seen him.”

“So we cast a wider net,” she said. “Spread his picture in the cities. Offer a reward for information that helps us find him.”

“Anything strange or unusual could be the clue we need,” Clint said. “The gossip mill could be an amazing asset.”

“It’s just going to be a slow asset,” Natasha warned. “Don’t expect results by tomorrow.”

“I’ll take any results at all,” Peggy said. “Set it in motion.”

“Should we be letting anyone know about this if we suspect there’s a problem?” Sam said. “Just to be sure we’re on the same page?”

“Not until we have confirmation that there is, in fact, a problem,” Peggy said. “If it turns out Sharon and Natasha need more manpower we can contact the Temples in the areas concerned. But there’s no need to cause a fuss as long as we don’t know that there’s anything to make a fuss about. You said it yourself; it’s not the first time someone summons our Champion without checking to see if it’s convenient.”

“And we don’t need anyone looking over our shoulders and making this even more stressful than it already is,” Bucky said. “We’re good at what we do. We have Steve’s full confidence. He knows he can count on us to get him out of whatever trouble he’s in – if it is trouble.”

“But you think it’s trouble,” Wanda pointed out.

“I think it’s trouble,” Bucky agreed. “But I’ve been known to worry overmuch.”

Dum Dum snorted.

“Sharon, Clint, Natasha, do you need anything more from us?” Peggy asked.

“Not right now,” Natasha said.

“All right then. Dismissed. We’ll see each other at dinner,” Peggy said. “Let’s hope the rumour mill churns fast.”

The vanguard worked nonstop. Sharon, Natasha and Bucky took turns answering any messages that came in and coordinating teams to follow up on them. Clint was in the field to check on anything that seemed most likely to be good. Aside from the Citadel Guard and anyone who was sick or injured, every single vanguard member was out there, looking for Steve. Even some of the clergy and supporting personnel had volunteered.

Still, it took two more weeks for the liberating message to come through.

Bucky was passed out on one of the sofas in his office when it did because Wanda had put him under before she left to join one of the teams earlier that day. He’d lost weight and his skin had taken on a sort of greyish pallor. Natasha went instead, while Sharon recalled the Howlies so they could be ready to provide backup if needed. Two hours later they stood ready and Peggy was shaking Bucky awake.

“James, darling,” she called.

“Let me,” Dum Dum said, and hit him with a jolt of positive energy to wash away the last of Wanda’s spell. Bucky shot awake with a start.

“Easy,” Peggy said gently. “Easy. We found him, James. We can go to him right now. Natasha’s with him.”

“Where is he?” Bucky asked, scrambling up and calling his armour and equipment. He had to sink back down for just a moment, dizzy.

“We got word from a small community in the mountain forests, who discovered a farmstead that hadn’t been there a month earlier,” Peggy said. “Clint was too far away so Natasha went in to check on the lead while we got the Howling Commandoes together in case of danger, and she just called us to get there right away.”

“Let’s go get him,” Bucky said, and they rushed to the teleportation circle to home in on Nathasha’s beacon.

They materialised in a clearing carved out of the edge of the forest. Chickens ran for their lives and they were sort of trampling what looked like an attempt at a vegetable patch.

"What the?.." Peggy muttered.

"Are we in the right place?" Jones asked, dragging his boots loose from the mud.

It was a farm, all right. Fields stretched out to the left side and there were animals grazing. Laundry was hanging out to dry between the farm house and one of the barns. Everything looked normal, and what was more important, a lot older than three weeks.

They were all decidedly out of their depth.

"Where are we?" Bucky asked, out of breath. "Where is he?"

"Bucky!"

They looked over to where Natasha was calling them over. "He's inside."

There was a tone to her voice that made Bucky's hair stand on end, a softness, like pity or compassion. Something Not Good.

He looked at Peggy, unwavering Peggy, who nodded grimly and set out to the house. His legs followed her even though the rest of him was unsure.

They were almost there when the door to the farm house opened and someone stepped out. It was Steve. It was undeniably Steve. He turned to look at them as they approached and he had his diplomat's face on, which was a weird thing to see when he was not decked out in full plate armour, and even weirder because he was turning it on them.

Bucky couldn’t help himself. He rushed forward.

"Steve!" he shouted, and threw himself at him, trusting as always that Steve would catch him, steady him. He wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in the crook of his shoulder.

"I was so worried," he breathed.

Steve's hands landed on his shoulders and pushed him back, held him at arm's length.

"Who the hell is Steve?" Steve asked, impatience on his face. He only spared Bucky an exasperated look before looking at Natasha and Peggy in turn. Clearly he'd decided they were better candidates to explain what was going on.

"_You_ are!" Peggy snapped, in spite of herself. "What the hell, sir?"

"Steve, it's _us_," Dum Dum pleaded, "that's _Bucky_!"

"Am I supposed to know who you are?" Steve asked Bucky flatly. Bucky couldn’t help the sound he made, the look that must be on his face.

"Steve," he begged.

Steve sighed and let him go. Bucky staggered and then Peggy and Natasha were there to hold him up.

"Look, I don't know who you people are or who you think I'm supposed to be, but I'm sorry you came here for nothing. My name is Grant. Like I already told her,” he said, indicating Natasha. “You're welcome to come in and have a drink before you go on your way again, but I can't help you."

"I think that sounds like a great idea, don't you, Ma'am?" Natasha said with some insistence, jerking her chin at the door.

"Honey?" came a voice from inside the house. "What's going on out there?"

A woman stepped out, heavily pregnant and looking radiant. Bucky was sure he was going to be sick.

"Oh!" She was clearly taken aback by the regiment of heavily armed and armoured clerics standing in her courtyard. Steve held his arm out for her and she immediately went to him so he could draw her into him and slightly behind him.

"This is my wife, Rachel," he introduced her.

“Wife,” Bucky parroted.

"She's seven months pregnant, just about, so don't go panicking over nothing," Peggy hissed in Bucky's ear.

"I know that," he hissed back, "but clearly he's not on the same page!"

"Get your head in the game and start doing your thing," she hissed.

Natasha was talking to the woman, complimenting her on something inane and moving them all towards the house at the same time. Steve kept himself between them and his wife, but he still allowed them all in.

The Howling Commandoes trooped in almost sheepishly, looking around the homestead and trying not to break anything. It looked picture perfect, like it was pulled from a novel or a painting. It looked just about as fake as they all knew the whole thing to be, but the woman moved with obvious pride, rushing to the tiny kitchen area to grab them something to drink. Steve trailed after her but stopped halfway, torn between helping his wife and keeping an eye on his 'guests'.

Natasha kept pulling at Bucky's shoulder but he brushed her off, trying to get in the right headspace to get his spells up, until she asked, obnoxiously loud, "That's quite the art piece on your mantle there, sir, did you paint that yourself?", and jerked Bucky's shoulder again for good measure.

Peggy turned and gasped.

Bucky turned with her. He staggered back until he bumped into a bench and slumped down.

There was a mural painted all over the chimneypiece. Right at the top, set to a night blue background, was Sehanine's symbol, surrounded by the various phases of the moon and a whole firmament of stars. Below that, taking up about two thirds of the whole mantle, was Bucky's tattoo, every detail and colour just right. It was clear that a lot of time and love had gone into the piece. Steve must have been working on it the entire time he was here.

"Isn't it amazing?" Rachel was saying. "My husband painted it, he's an artist."

"Wasn't he supposed to be a farmer?" Bucky heard Dernier murmur.

"Do you know what it means?" Steve suddenly blurted. He took two steps towards Bucky, then lurched to a halt again. "It just… flowed out of my fingers, but… I've never seen any of this before. I don't know what it means. I don't know how I did that. I didn't even know I could paint."

Bucky looked from the mural to him and back, trying to get the words out.

Peggy stepped in, blocking Bucky from Steve's view so he could get himself together.

"We can explain everything, if you give us a chance," she said, projecting the air of calm authority that made her so good at what she did.

“What are you talking about?” Rachel said sharply, pushing herself in between Peggy and Steve. “Explain what? Why should my husband listen to you at all? We have no idea who you are, why should we trust you?”

Peggy cocked her head and the vanguard came to attention. The shift in Rachel’s behaviour was almost too much to be believable, but of course they didn’t know her.

“Alright, that’s it,” Bucky said. He stood and started pulling his power around him. Peggy grabbed Rachel by the arm and pulled her to the side.

“Gabe, back me up here?” Bucky said.

“You got it,” came the reply.

“Let’s take a look,” Bucky said, and went under.

The magic flowed down his arms and out of his fingers, misting through the air. His eyes lit up along with the grooves in his left arm and he breathed out, feeling the currents in the room, in the environment, permeating the earth. His left hand came up to rest over Steve’s heart.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Gabe was chanting, holy symbol held aloft between his palms, divine power thick in the air.

“Is She here at all?” Bucky asked.

“I can’t reach Her. Couldn’t scry in, can’t reach out.”

“Like there’s a wall all around the edge of the farm, right?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky took his hand off Steve’s chest and waved it over to Rachel, who flinched back.

“_Fuck_,” Bucky grit. “I’ve never felt anything like this, Gabe.”

“It’s like something made a hole in existence,” Gabe replied, “cut off from the rest of creation.”

“Like it cut a hole in them, too? Is that why he can’t remember us?” Morita asked.

“Some stuff bled through, as evidenced by Her symbol right there on the wall,” Dum Dum pointed out.

“And, you know,” Morita deadpanned, gesturing at the rest of the mural.

“Shut it,” Bucky bit.

“No, don’t shut it,” Steve barked. “Explain!”

They snapped to attention on instinct.

“We’re from the Citadel of Sehanine Moonbow, a moon goddess of travel and trickery. We’ve come here looking for our Champion, who vanished without a trace. After three weeks we finally found a lead, which led us here. To you,” Peggy said.

Rachel laughed, ugly and condescending. “Do you expect us to believe that my husband is your missing high priest?” She gestured at her swollen stomach. “A priest?”

“Yeah, we’re not that kind of clergy,” Dum Dum started, but Gabe kicked him in the ankle.

“You’ve devoted your whole life to Her service,” Bucky said. “All of who you are revolves around Her, and your work, and all the people you serve and protect and keep safe and whose life you make so much better. Someone has devoted an enormous amount of power and effort to make you disappear, to make the person you are disappear. And still Her symbol was so clear in your mind that you felt compelled to paint it on your mantlepiece.”

“Not just Her symbol, though,” Steve said. He moved to take another step toward Bucky but jerked to a stop, like his body wanted to be closer but his head couldn’t understand why. “Who are you? You don’t wear Her symbol, but everyone here still listens to you.”

“I’m not important. We should get you home, find out who Rachel really is and get her home-“

Rachel shot forward, moving between Steve and Bucky and hitting the sorcerer in the chest with both fists as hard as she could, trying to push him further back. Bucky didn’t move. Steve grabbed her wrists and pulled her back into him, holding her tight.

“What do you mean, find out who she is?” he said, helpless shock on his face.

“We’ve never seen her before,” Bucky said, not as kindly as he probably could. “She’s not your wife. That’s not your baby.”

“Not my baby?” Steve repeated, dumbfounded.

“What exactly are you implying here?” Rachel demanded, trying to get out of Steve’s grip.

Peggy stepped in immediately. “Nothing like that, of course!” she said. “No, ma’am, he means that you have been stolen away from your life as well, and from whoever is the father of your child.”

“Grant is the father of my baby!” she insisted. “Who do you think you are, coming in here and making these outlandish claims?”

“We told you, Rachel, we’re from the Cit-“ Natasha tried.

“So you _say_,” Rachel interrupted, “but we’ve never heard of that place, and you’ve offered no kind of proof!”

The clerics looked at each other in their besigilled armour. The proof was all over them, but something told them she wouldn’t see it that way.

“We can’t prove anything unless you come with us,” Natasha said gently.

“Not good enough,” Rachel bit.

“It’s not up to you, I’m afraid,” Natasha replied, and shifted her attention to Steve very deliberately.

The others followed her example.

Steve, taken aback, looked from Natasha to Peggy to Rachel, took in the rest of the vanguard, and finally turned to Bucky.

“I’m not him,” he said, hesitantly. “I’m just a farmer.”

Bucky buried his fingers in his hair, pulled on his braids. Natasha moved to where Steve couldn’t see her face so she could give Bucky pointed looks. “James,” Peggy said softly.

“Fine,” Bucky sighed, “fine, fine. You want proof? I’ll give you some proof.”

It felt like too much to dismiss his armour and expose himself all at once, so he did it the slow way – undid his travel cloak, let his weapon belts thunk to the floor, peeled off his gloves and started on the hidden buckles of his mithril chainmail. Revealed the soft leather underarmour. Peeled that off, too. Watched Steve watch him. Saw the inevitable flinch when the arm came free and the scarring was bared. Tried not to let it hurt.

“What’s that?” Rachel asked, pointing at Bucky’s metal arm, and more specifically, his shoulder.

Bucky stood there, cloak and undershirt on the floor, armour peeled off to hang off his hips, with only a tank top still hiding his back and most of the scarring and did not know what to say.

“It’s just a sigil,” Peggy said delicately.

“Engraved in an arm that’s somehow made of metal that moves like it’s flesh?” she replied, with all the scepticism it deserved. “It’s not right. It looks evil.”

“Rachel!” Steve hissed.

“She gets that a lot, my goddess,” Bucky managed. It was important Steve understood that, suddenly. “It’s Her symbol. She’s not, though, evil, I mean. People just misunderstand.”

“Look, it’s a red skull that’s bleeding flames, and their symbols are all full moons with a moonbow over it – you’re not really pleading your case here,” Rachel said.

“A rainbow wouldn’t exactly be fitting for a goddess of death and magic, would it?” Bucky snarked back before he could help himself.

“James!” Peggy hissed. Natasha dropped her head into her palms.

“I knew there was something…” Rachel started, then whirled around to face Steve. “Grant, he’s a necromancer! You can feel it in his magic!”

Everyone stared.

“No, Rach, I can’t,” Steve said gently. “How can you?”

She paused and thought about it. “I… don’t know,” she said, unsure. “How do I know that?” There was panic rising in her voice.

“Because we’re telling you the truth,” Peggy said. “Look at that mural. Think about the things you’re feeling about James’ magic. You’re not who you think you are, either of you.”

Rachel pressed a hand to her mouth, wrapped the other arm around her belly, shrunk in on herself, and Steve stepped forward to take her in his arms and hide her from their stares.

“You were going to show me proof,” he said softly, eyes trained first on Bucky’s shoulder, and then on his face.

Bucky heaved a breath and pulled the tank top over his head. The rest of the scarring came into view and Steve visibly swallowed. Then, after a final hesitation, Bucky turned around, showing Steve his back.

There was more scarring – in spite of Steve’s best efforts over the years, the kind of abuse Bucky’s body had been through for decades left marks even divine healing could not erase. Older than that, however, was the tattoo that covered all of Bucky’s back and shoulders.

It looked like he’d been struck by lightning, except the fractaling arcs almost looked like flames branching out over the plains of muscle. Steve had painted it the way it had once looked, the way he’d never actually seen it, whole and unbroken, stroke for stroke lovingly rendered on the mantlepiece. The real thing was missing a chunk at the left shoulder and some of the branches had been damaged by burns or thick ropes of pale scar tissue. But there was no denying they matched. That ‘Grant’ had spent enough time around Bucky to know the intricate pattern on his back well enough to reproduce by heart.

“What is it?” Steve asked hoarsely.

Bucky turned back, pulled his top back on. “They just help me channel magic,” he said, then, with a quick glance at Rachel, added, “necromancy, mostly.”

“Who are you?” Steve asked.

Bucky flashed him a sad smile. “I’m Bucky,” he said. It was the only thing to say, but also not very much.

Steve stared at him for a while. “Yeah, all right,” he finally said. “We’ll come with you.”

“Are you sure?” Rachel asked, but half-heartedly, like she was asking because it was the thing to do and not because she was not convinced. Steve squeezed her shoulders but did not reply.

Bucky started pulling the rest of his clothes back on, too shaken to manage it the fast way and fumbling the slow way. His hands were trembling. Dum Dum and Gabe stepped in, shielding him from Steve’s searching gaze, and helped him with the mail.

“We’ll have it set to rights soon enough now,” Dum Dum muttered. “We’ll have your lab and the clinic and anyone you want to help out.”

“Just a few more hours and this will all be over,” Gabe added.

“Thanks, guys,” Bucky sighed. “It can’t be over soon enough.”

Peggy was with Rachel in the kitchen, trying to convince her she didn’t have to pack anything. Natasha was talking to Steve, too low to hear. Steve glanced over and Bucky ducked his head, hid behind Dum Dum’s bulk.

“Let’s get set up,” he said, and led his vanguard outside.

They’d just finished drawing up the circle when Peggy and Natasha brought out Steve and Rachel. She was clutching a bundle of clothes. He carried nothing.

The portal sputtered to life.

“Bet you a year’s pay that if we didn’t have the Citadel circle to connect to, the spell would fizzle,” Gabe said.

“No bet,” Bucky grunted. “We had a heap of trouble connecting to Nat’s beacon coming in. Who wants to go first?”

Falsworth gave him the side eye. “You’re sure this’ll work, though, right?”

“We got here, didn’t we? And if it mishaps, we’ll be right behind you,” Dum Dum grinned.

“Such comfort,” Morita deadpanned, thumped Falsworth on the shoulder, and stepped through.

The others filed in after him. Steve stepped through without looking back. For Rachel it was clearly harder. Natasha went in front of her, leaving her with just Peggy and Bucky.

“It’s safe, I promise,” he said, trying for a kind smile. “We’re safe.”

She smiled back awkwardly. “I’m sure you believe that,” she said. “But I’m not convinced my husband will be at all safe with you, no matter how many times you tell me he’s not my husband.” And she stepped through, leaving Bucky speechless.

“You’re lucky Natasha didn’t hear that,” Peggy said, smiling sweetly.

“I’m lucky _Dum Dum_ didn’t hear that,” Bucky replied, exhaling heavily.

She clapped him on the left shoulder, and they stepped through.

[Art Post](https://layersofsilence.dreamwidth.org/1186.html)

Emerging from the circle was a shock of noise. Everyone who had been able to get away was gathered in the atrium, cheering and applauding the return of their Champion. Steve stood frozen, holding on to Rachel, overwhelmed. Bucky immediately went to him, grabbed their hands, and pulled them away from the crowd. Wanda and the Howlies followed, shielding them from curious looks. Behind him he heard Peggy speak up, explaining what was going on.

“Helen’s office will be much quieter,” he promised, leading them further into the building.

“Helen?” Rachel asked.

“She runs our hospital,” Bucky explained. “She can do much more to look into what’s happening with you both than we could in the field. She’ll take good care of you, and she can also see if everything is well with your baby.”

A look of horror crossed her face. “Do you think this enchantment could be affecting the baby, too?”

“Let’s leave that to the expert,” Bucky said, trying for a reassuring smile. “We’re here now.”

They went through an arched doorway into a large open space filled with plants, furniture in light colours and soft textures, and beautiful art pieces. There was a sound of clattering water. The effect was restful and soothing.

“This was a mistake,” Steve said, pulling back on Bucky’s hand. “We should go home.”

“Helen?” Bucky called, letting go of Rachel’s hand to rap his knuckles on a half-hidden door and yanking at Steve with the other.

“It’s open!” a soft voice replied.

They went into the office to find a small woman with dark hair and a very kind face.

“Steve!” she said, smiling brightly. “You’re back!”

“Something’s wrong, Helen,” Bucky said. “I need you to see if you can figure out what. They both don’t know who they are, or who we are.”

“Also, some behaviours we’ve observed didn’t seem entirely natural,” Wanda added. “Rapid shifts in mood, switching back and forth on whether they believe something or not.”

“It’s a pretty fantastic tale,” Steve protested.

“And we keep giving you proof that it’s true,” Wanda pointed out. “And you’re convinced, and then five minutes later you change your mind again.”

“Probably a compulsion to make sure they didn’t wander too far from where they were put,” Gabe called from outside the office. “May not be connected to the amnesia thing.”

“We won’t know until we check,” Helen said. “But first let’s make sure all three of you are physically well, shall we? If you would follow me to my examination room? The rest of you can wait in the solarium.”

Reluctantly, Bucky let go of Steve’s hand and went.

They didn’t have to wait long; half an hour later Helen led them back out of her office again.

“They are all healthy,” she pronounced. “I did find a compulsion on both of them, and a stasis spell on the baby designed to shield it from harm and keep it from growing – possibly all meant to keep them at their farm indefinitely until whoever put them there returned.”

“Were you able to remove them?” Bucky asked.

“I did remove the compulsion, but at Rachel’s request I have left the stasis spell in place, for now. She is still unsure of us and doesn’t want to risk her baby before she knows more about herself and where she comes from.”

Rachel shifted a little awkwardly.

“That’s entirely fair,” Gabe said. “I wouldn’t want to bring a baby into this either, ma’am.”

She managed a smile.

“Do you have any idea about what kind of magic was used to erase their memories?” Wanda asked.

“None, I’m afraid,” Helen said. “It’s possible that walking around the Citadel, seeing his rooms, his office, or the temple might jog something loose for Steve, but we’ll have to return Rachel to her home to see if the same works for her.”

“We can ask Sam to show him around while we work on a list of things to try,” Wanda suggested.

“Worth a shot,” Bucky sighed, “but how do we find out who Rachel is?”

“Sharon or Natasha can help us with that. If they put her with Steve, she’ll be someone that also poses a threat. Someone will know her.”

“Or she’s the culprit,” Dernier said, and then, when everyone stared, “You’ve all considered it, too!”

“Why would I erase my own memory?” Rachel said, scrunching up her nose.

“Maybe it was your lifelong dream to be a farmer’s wife,” Dernier said drily. “To sell the part, of course. To infiltrate the Citadel. Who knows? We’ve encountered worse plans.”

“He’s not wrong,” Dum Dum muttered.

“I guess we’ll find out if she’s an evil mastermind when we identify her, or when we break the amnesia spell,” Bucky said. “Until then, let’s assume she’s a victim.”

“You’re very quiet, Steve,” Wanda said.

“Not like I have much to say,” he said, mouth set in a stubborn line. “Everything’s been decided already.”

“We’re just trying to get this over with as soon as possible,” Bucky assured him.

“You rang?” Sam called, coming into the room. “Peggy tells me you’re having a bad day.”

Bucky buried his face in his hands. “You might say that,” he said, muffled.

“Not as bad of a day as Steve is having,” Wanda told Sam.

“You might say that,” Steve said through gritted teeth.

“All right, you two,” Sam said. “Let’s see if we can’t make it better.”

He turned to Rachel.

“Well met, ma’am. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances. My name is Sam Wilson, I’m in charge of logistics here so if there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. If you would be so kind as to go with Wanda for now, she’ll take you to meet someone who’s going to solve at least one mystery for us.”

Rachel nodded, charmed in spite of herself.

Sam turned to Steve next. “You and I are going for a walk,” he ordered. “Follow me.”

For a moment it looked like Steve might argue, but then he heaved a sigh and went with him.

“What are we really doing?” he asked once they were out of earshot.

“We’re really going for a walk,” Sam said. “Helen suggested familiar places might jog your memory, so Wanda asked me to come give you a tour. Simple as that.”

“She didn’t ask you anything!” Steve said.

“She sent me a missive,” Sam told him. “A magic message. She doesn’t have to speak to send it – some of our other casters have a habit of saying their messages out loud; it’s both hilarious and weird to try and listen to one side of a conversation.”

Steve didn’t respond.

“Look man, I know this is a nightmare, but you need to set the stubborn bastard aside for a bit and trust that we’re trying to help you. You _know_ something is wrong. Peggy told me about the painting. Don’t lie to yourself.”

“Fine,” Steve said. “Show me around.”

They spent almost two hours walking the building and the grounds. Moonbow Citadel was more than just a building. There were vast vegetable gardens and farms on the terrain that did not only feed the Citadel but also the neighbouring villages, as well as a park, training grounds, tournament grounds and playgrounds. Daily there was a kind of market on the plaza in front of the Citadel’s main entrance, where any who needed it could get food parcels, clothing or tools.

Then there was the main building, which housed a hospital, a school and a shelter, and served as living space for the many people in permanent employ of the Citadel, as well as their families and pets. Their jobs ranged from groundskeepers, housekeepers, healers and caregivers to clergy to the Citadel’s army, the vanguard, which consisted of elite warriors of all flavours.

They served the faith and protected any who needed them, and their skills varied widely, from treaty negotiations to monster hunting to holding back invading armies. Depending on who you were, they charged you not at all or very handsomely, but they were so good that they were in high demand regardless. Bucky was the Vanguard to Steve’s Champion, and Sam explained that when they’d come up with the idea of setting up a team of fighters that could serve and protect the Citadel’s petitioners, they’d named it for Bucky’s title because that just about covered it.

Visiting what were supposedly his quarters was an exercise in frustration. They were both familiar and entirely strange. The same went for his office, which was large and opulent but filled with furniture that was warm and inviting and immediately drew Steve in. It looked like he would want his office to look, which only served to piss him off.

“This is all very impressive and you have a really great project going here,” he told Sam.

“But I think we can conclude that this was a fruitless endeavour,” Sam finished his sentence.

“I’ll admit some of it feels kind of familiar,” Steve said. “Like a place I saw years ago and only very vaguely remember.”

“Every bit helps, I suppose. At the very least it’s information that they can use to help figure this out,” Sam sighed. “Let’s go back and see how the others are doing.”

Sam took him down yet another corridor to yet another office. They could hear someone shouting through the door. The room was stuffed with shelves and filing cabinets and the windowsill was bursting with plants. Wanda and Rachel were there, along with Peggy and Natasha, and a blonde woman Steve hadn’t seen before. Bucky was there, too, arguing with a man in colourful robes who was gesturing very insistently at Rachel. As soon as Steve walked in, Rachel shot across the room and clung to him.

“I don’t know who you are!” she yelled. “_This_ is my husband, and I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“_Christine!_” the man pleaded.

“My name is Rachel!” she yelled.

“Honey, please,” he said. “You have to come home with me so we can fix this!”

“No!” she said. “I’m staying here. These people are going to help us.”

“_I_ can help you!” he argued. “We don’t need them.”

“What the hells is going on here?” Sam shouted.

“Sharon found out who ‘Rachel’ is,” Natasha said, nodding her head at the blonde woman. “Turns out she’s Christine Strange. Someone we buy magical lab equipment from apparently also supplies the Stranges. The more you know.”

“Look, Strange,” Bucky said, putting himself bodily between the wizard and Steve and Christine, “I know this is a horrible situation, but surely you can look at this rationally enough to realise you’re only making things much worse for her this way! She doesn’t know who you are! And you want her to leave the only person she does know to go with you to Goddess knows where so you can do Goddess knows what!”

“She’s been gone for _weeks_,” Strange cried. “I’m not leaving here without her!”

“We’re not suggesting you do,” Peggy said gently. “We still have no idea what we’re dealing with or how long this situation will last. Why don’t you stay? You’re welcome here for as long as you want. That way, Rachel can familiarise herself with you and you can leave together once this is over or when she consents to it.”

“And in the meantime I should just let another man be my wife’s husband?” Strange fumed.

“She will be getting her own quarters,” Peggy said. “Until such time as you can persuade her to join you.”

“We’ll still need to run a few tests,” Wanda said, “but you can observe the whole process.”

“You will not be performing any tests on _my wife and baby_,” Strange said.

“Fine, we’ll just test Steve,” Bucky snapped. “Now, if you’ll kindly let us get on with _solving this whole problem_.”

“What tests, exactly?” Steve cut in.

“Just some things that are going to help us identify what’s been done to you,” Wanda said. “Nothing invasive of painful.”

“Why don’t you go do that,” Peggy said pointedly, “and we’ll help master Strange get settled into guest quarters.”

“I think we’ll be taking Christine with us,” Wanda said delicately – she still had not let go of Steve, and he had an arm wrapped around her protectively.

Strange looked like he would start protesting again, but Peggy smoothly headed him off.

“That would be best,” she said, “all this added stress is terrible for the baby.”

His mouth snapped shut again and Wanda and Bucky took advantage of the lull to shepherd Steve and Christine out the door.

“Are you all right, Rachel?” Wanda asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “It’s really weird, but Christine does feel sort of familiar, so maybe it’s true.”

Steve realised he’d already stopped thinking of himself as Grant.

“With the compulsion removed, more familiar things will probably start popping up,” Wanda said.

“Did you see anything you recognised?” Bucky asked Steve without looking at him.

“Not really,” Steve said. “It’s like I was here just once about a decade ago.”

“That’s already helpful,” Wanda assured him. “That confirms that your own memories aren’t gone, but have been buried under the false ones. That’s why the strong ones manage to slip through.”

“Why isn’t that happening for me?” Christine asked.

“It has, though,” Bucky pointed out. “You knew how to identify my magic. That must mean magic is very important in your life.”

“That man, Stephen, said I do research into how magic works!” she said.

“See?” Bucky said reassuringly. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I want to do the tests, too,” she said. “More data is important.”

“Spoken like a scientist,” Wanda said with a wink.

They emerged from the building onto training grounds. A few people were working there already, aided by various machines, dummies and other equipment.

“Why are we here, exactly?” Steve asked.

“We’re going to see how much of you is still you,” Bucky said.

Over the course of the next few hours they made him do sword drills, mace drills, shield drills, obstacle courses, sprints, attacked him with various spells, and on one occasion, threw a rock at his head.

“Was that really necessary?” he bellowed when the rock had bounced harmlessly off a shimmering shield that manifested itself in the nick of time.

“It was,” Bucky said.

“Look, who even are you that anything you say, goes?” Steve said angrily. “Sam called you the Vanguard, but that just means you’re in charge of the army, right?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Bucky said. “Therefore, I’m the one doing the threat assessment. On the threat towards _you_.”

“_You_’re the threat right now,” Steve said, stabbing his finger at the rock.

“You’re doing defensive casting and even counterspelling on instinct, Steve, you’re fine,” Bucky said. “You can still fight, your reaction speed is normal and you can still do all the drills. This is all good news and again confirms our idea about what is going on with you. You’re still essentially you, you just don’t know it.”

“You didn’t make Christine do any tests,” Steve said stubbornly.

“I’m not chucking a rock at a pregnant woman, Steve!” Bucky protested. “I don’t even know if she’s that kind of spellcaster!”

“Are they always like this?” Christine asked Wanda under her breath.

“On occasion,” Wanda supplied. “Whenever they disagree, really. Steve is very stubborn and Bucky gets very snarky.”

“He’s right about the tests, though,” Christine said.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Wanda said. “I think we should try and quiz you on the research you’ve been doing, see if you still know general things about how magic works or what your research entailed – which I expect you won’t – and then see if you can pick out a magical weapon out of a row of mundane ones or identify what kind of caster three of our vanguard are, which I think you will be able to. Instinct versus specific knowledge, just like with Steve.”

“The best person to quiz me would be Stephen,” she said, pursing her lips.

“That’s true,” Wanda said, “but we can do the other kinds of tests first and ask him to help once you feel comfortable doing so.”

Christine sighed. “That sounds all right. Do you think they’re almost done bickering?”

“It’s almost dinner time, so I expect their friends will be here any moment to break them up. Here they come now.”

The Howlies did break them up, and they all went to a very awkward dinner, after which Christine was given guest quarters far from Strange’s and next to Steve’s. Steve had refused to sleep in his own rooms. All of them spent a very restless night.

The next morning, Wanda ran Christine through some exercises, and they got Strange to show her pictures of family and friends and ask questions about her work, all of which confirmed their suspicions.

The afternoon was spent with Steve and Christine on stools in the clinic while caster after caster tried spell after spell, trying to either break the enchantment outright or to jog more of their buried memories loose. Hours later, Bucky had to admit defeat.

“Until we know what’s caused it, we won’t solve it,” he said into the top of Peggy’s desk.

“It looks like one thing, but doesn’t react like we’d expect it to,” Wanda said. She was slouching in the other chair facing Peggy’s desk.

Sam reached over from where he was standing to pat Bucky on the head, squishing his nose in the process. Bucky swatted at him but did not sit up or even raise his head.

“It’s early stages yet,” he said. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“We’ve had teams comb the farm top to bottom,” Natasha said. “The whole thing seems to be magically constructed. Leo and Gemma tell me it has the same ‘feel’ as the spell on Steve and Christine, and they haven’t been able to dispel it either.”

“That leaves me no choice,” Peggy sighed. “We may have found Steve, but we didn’t get our Champion back. We have to alert the Temple Guardians.”

Bucky thunked his head on the desk.

The next morning the Temple Guardians arrived, emerging from the Citadel’s teleportation circle that was laid in silver in the atrium floor. Peggy and Bucky were there to welcome them. Sam and Steve stood on one of the first floor balconies overlooking the whole thing. They were far from the only spectators.

“Nicholas Fury and his aid, Maria Hill,” Sam was saying. “Sort of old fashioned, not afraid to call you out but quick enough to see reason. Maria is ruthlessly efficient, a lot like Peggy.”

“He doesn’t really look like a priest,” Steve said, eyeing the lack of shining armour or robes on both of them and the long black coat on Fury.

“He used to run a mercenary company before he found faith,” Sam explained. “Some of his people came with him and are now part of the vanguard.”

Next was a very large group, all dressed to the nines in stately robes, highly decorated armour, or suits fit for nobility.

“Quite the statement,” Sam muttered.

“Who are they?” Steve asked.

“Alexander Pierce, Obadiah Stane and Thaddeus Ross,” Sam said, pointing them out, “all with their aids, and a lot of retinue – that they didn’t tell us they were bringing, I might add. Peggy already told them you are out of commission, so this is quite deliberate: they’re trying to trip her up and make it clear they are one front.”

They made quite an impressive sight, though; well dressed, experienced, calm and fatherly. More what Steve had expected the leadership of a whole faith to look like.

Next were two casually dressed young men accompanied by a group of four warriors, three men and a woman.

“Thor Odinson, here to represent his mother, Frigga, who can’t leave her husband’s side right now. He’s very ill and she’s one of the best healers in the world. The people with him are his brother, Loki, who acts as his aid, and their friends.”

“Bucky seems to know them well,” Steve said, watching the men embrace.

“So do you,” Sam said, patting him on the shoulder.

The next group was just two people again, two women this time, dressed in practical chainmail and carrying backpacks.

“That’s Carol Danvers, and her wife and aid Maria Rambeau. They have a daughter, Monica, but they don’t usually bring her when they visit for official business. Carol is a Favoured Soul, directly chosen by Sehanine herself, much like you,” Sam explained.

“Six Temple Guardians,” Steve mused.

“And you as the deciding vote,” Sam said. “Carol and Thor will support Peggy and Bucky, I’m not worried about them. Not entirely sure how Fury will come down on the issue. The other three…”

“Surely they’ll vote for what’s best for their people?” Steve said.

Sam smiled at him. “You sure still sound like yourself. They will, but their idea of what’s best is not always what’s yours. And they don’t like Bucky very much. All of them were very opposed to the creation of the vanguard, or the use of our resources to help anyone who needs it instead of only our own people.”

Steve frowned. “Isn’t there more than enough?”

“There is now,” Sam sighed, “but there wasn’t always, not even that long ago. It can be hard to let go of that kind of worry even when it’s not necessary anymore. You are a big part of our current wealth, so it’s not unreasonable to expect things to change again, now. I just wished they would be less patronising about it.”

“I guess they wouldn’t be Temple Guardians if they hadn’t earned it,” Steve said.

“They’re all heroes of the faith, or were, and they sure haven’t forgotten it,” Sam said.

The three men’s retinues were filing out of the atrium, as well as Thor and Loki’s warrior friends. The others remained.

“No point putting it off,” Fury called out. “Let’s have the whole story, Carter.”

“Of course, Guardian,” she said, snapping to attention.

The Temple Guardians formed up in a half-circle. Peggy and Bucky stood in front of them. The aids stood to the side. The balconies were lined with pretty much anyone who had been able to get out of anything else to do.

“Here we go,” Sam muttered.

“About three weeks ago,” Peggy started, voice sure and clear, “we noticed that sometime during the night our Champion had disappeared from the Citadel. At about the same time, Christine Strange also disappeared from her home. She is a very gifted magical researcher who was previously unknown to us. We used every resource at our disposal to locate the Champion, and were finally able to do so two days ago. We found him on a small farm that had somehow sprung into existence around the time of the disappearance. Both the Champion and mistress Strange had no idea of who they were and instead believed themselves to be Grant and Rachel, husband and wife, owners of the farm. We have been attempting to break the amnesia spell, but so far without success. We also don’t have any clue yet as to who is behind it.”

“To be clear,” Stane said, “our Champion was missing for three weeks, and you didn’t think it relevant to inform us?”

“It was hardly the first time a situation like that presented itself,” Peggy pointed out. “We have many allies across the planes who cannot all be counted on to ask in advance before issuing an invitation, so to speak. I will admit that usually we are able to establish contact sooner. Until it became clear that the Champion didn’t remember us, there was no pressing cause for concern, and no indication it was necessary to take you away from your important tasks.”

“Certainly a decision like that was not really yours to make,” Pierce said amiably.

Sam clicked his tongue. Danvers looked like she was going to say something.

“I made the call,” Bucky said. “The decision was mine to make.”

“I’m sure you felt that way, master Barnes,” Pierce replied.

Sam clicked his tongue again.

“What’s done is done,” Fury said. “The Vanguard and cleric Carter have done the best they could with an unclear situation and have produced results: our Champion is in our midst again. Now we have to look to the future. You said you haven’t found a way yet to break the spell binding his memories, and that it’s still a mystery who our enemy is. What _do_ you know, so far?”

Wanda and Strange came forward to stand with Bucky and Peggy.

“Best we can tell, it’s an effect that functions a lot like a wish, but it’s definitely not one. None of the regular countermeasures have worked,” Bucky said. “The farm seems to have been created by the same means. We weren’t able to dispel that, either.”

“It’s like someone wished for Sehanine’s Champion to be no more, so the spell took those parts of him away and left everything else intact,” Wanda said. “Steve still seems to have his physical prowess: all his weapons are instinctively familiar to him and he can still run the vanguard obstacle course. He can also still cast spells, which means he is somehow still communing with the Lady, he’s just not really aware that he’s doing it. The spells he calls on are all defensive.”

“Christine still shows all her scientific aptitude and has an instinctive feel for magic and spellcraft, but she can’t recall anything she was actively working on or recognise any of her friends and family,” Strange added.

“We’ve never seen a spell effect like this, and neither have any contacts we’ve consulted. We’re still waiting to hear back from a few people, but until we can identify the magic, we can’t undo it. Hopefully identifying it will also lead us to the caster.”

“How confident are you that you can fix it?” Danvers asked.

“Very,” Bucky lied. Steve could tell he was lying, but no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, did not call him on it.

“How confident are you that you’ll be able to fix it _quickly_?” Fury asked pointedly.

The three spellcasters shuffled just a little.

“It will take as long as it takes,” Strange finally said. “I’m not abandoning my wife!”

“And no one is suggesting that you should,” Ross said, “but we have to consider more than our personal feelings for the afflicted. If our Champion cannot be restored and our enemy not identified, we must ask our Lady to appoint a new Champion to help guide us through this crisis.”

“At the least we should consider appointing a new Temple Guardian to complete the circle,” Fury said.

“Cleric Carter would be the ideal candidate for such an appointment,” Thor said.

“Hells yeah,” Sam muttered.

“Why isn’t she one?” Steve asked.

“Because she really doesn’t want to be one,” Sam said. “Working as your aid puts her closer to the real problems. The Guardians are administrators most of the time. But she’ll take the job now, because she can represent your vote that way.”

“I didn’t think faith involved this much politics,” Steve said darkly.

“Don’t I know it,” Sam sighed. “It’s the price we pay for saving the world.”

Below them, the Guardians were debating the pros and cons of a seventh Temple Guardian.

“I agree that cleric Carter would make a fine Temple Guardian,” Ross said, raising his voice over the others’, “but a new Temple Guardian is not the real issue here. We are without a Champion! The people currently assigned to the task cannot guarantee us that they will succeed in breaking the spell and returning him to us. Surely we should be facing the fact that we may need to ask the Lady to choose a new one and sooner rather than later.”

Immediately everyone started talking, Guardians, aids and spectators alike.

“You sound like you are implying our people are doing less than everything that can be done,” Peggy bit.

“Our priority should be identifying the threat!” Fury boomed.

“If you think Sehanine will choose anyone else while Steve is still right there, you’re in for a disappointment!” Bucky shouted.

“Appointing a new Champion is ridiculously premature,” Danvers said.

“I’m sure no one meant to say or imply anything to cause offence or upset,” Pierce said, hands out in a soothing gesture, looking all around the room. “We are all a little off our game given what’s happened. Yes, we are under threat: someone has used a strange power on our Champion. Yes, this has weakened us. Yes, a solution is being worked on, but it’s not one we can count on to materialise any time soon. Given all this, one might question whether the people bringing us this potential solution are best qualified to, considering they are outsiders, whose motives are suspect in times such as these, wherein we, the faithful, must band together the most.”

“You fucking piece of shit –“ Bucky started, but Wanda and Peggy both kicked him in the ankles and cut him right off.

“I don’t appreciate your accusations toward the Citadel’s vanguard, Guardian Pierce,” Peggy said. “Each one of them was chosen by the Champion and is beyond reproach, whether they share our faith or not.”

“Steve says we are all his people,” Wanda added.

“Yet here we are,” Pierce said, voice still measured and calm. “We need to come to a decision. No doubt it is best to ask our Lady for guidance.”

“What say you, Guardian Danvers?” Thor asked.

She looked a little spooked with every eye in the hall suddenly on her – as Favoured Soul, she was the logical heir to Steve’s throne.

“I think we should promote cleric Carter, and give her and her people free reign in handling this problem. She, master Barnes and the rest of the vanguard have always proven very loyal and highly capable,” she said.

“I concur,” Thor said.

“He’s a heretic necromancer!” Ross protested.

“All of this is a waste of time,” Fury said. “We should be less concerned with this manoeuvring and more with who is behind this!”

“When we break the spell, we’ll be able to hand you the culprit on a silver platter,” Strange assured him.

“Clearly we’re not going to get out of this right now,” Stane said, stepping forward to face his fellow Temple Guardians. “I suggest we reconvene tomorrow and put the various suggestions to a vote. That way we can all consider the issues and ask more questions of the people involved if we feel it necessary in preparation. Though I think we can agree that outsiders need not be present for any further discussions –“ he looked very pointedly at Bucky “– since this concerns the faith and the faithful.”

“Agreed,” Ross said.

“Agreed,” Pierce drawled.

“Opposed,” Carol frowned.

“Opposed,” Thor said. He and Loki shared a look.

So did Fury and Maria. “Agreed,” he sighed. “The last thing we need tomorrow is a shouting match.”

“Shit,” Sam breathed.

Steve’s eyes were glued to Bucky’s face. The sorcerer looked ready to murder someone. His chest and shoulders were heaving. Wanda gripped the fabric covering his left forearm so tight her knuckles were white, was speaking rapidly in his ear. He didn’t look like he was going to calm down, but at least he wasn’t doing anything stupid.

“Why is he so upset?” Steve asked, distressed by Bucky’s distress and confused by his sudden urge to comfort him.

“Because now he can’t protect you and what you stand for tomorrow. They might toss you to the wayside and there’s nothing he’ll be able to do about it,” Sam sighed.

“Why, though? He’s been a rude jackass half the time and the other half he spends pretending he didn’t see me and walking the other way. Who is he? He won’t talk to me.”

“He’s your Vanguard,” Sam said. “He’s Bucky. It’s complicated to explain. You should really ask him.”

Steve sighed in frustration.

Below them, the Temple Guardians were sweeping out of the room along with their aids. Wanda let go of Bucky and he immediately stormed out in the opposite direction.

“I’m going after him,” Steve said, and took off.

“Steve, wait!” Sam called, but Steve was fully focused on the breadth of Bucky’s back and whether he correctly remembered which flight of stairs they’d taken to get on this balcony earlier, and ignored him.

By the time he made it back downstairs Bucky was nowhere to be seen. Steve rushed through half-familiar corridors until he emerged from the building onto the training grounds. There were people working out or training here and there, and he recognised the obstacle course they’d made him run over on the left. Towards the back there was another training course, with moving parts and mechanical and magical booby traps, and Bucky was tearing through it.

Steve’s mouth went dry. If the lack of spectators didn’t already give it away, the way the sorcerer was moving and casting made it clear enough: he was still absolutely furious, and he was breathtaking. Steve got as close as he dared and just watched.

Why did he feel so drawn to this stranger? The evidence presented was very convincing, but still some part of him felt like it must be a trick. On the other hand, when he thought about Rachel – _Christine_ – he also got the feeling that wasn’t right. He hadn’t been sure how he felt about the whole thing, except that now, looking at Bucky absolutely demolishing a training course, he realised he did know: angry, more angry than he could remember ever feeling, just as furious as Bucky was right now, except that he couldn’t shoot fireballs and lightning out of his fingers to work it out.

In the past two days he’d been dragged from his home that apparently wasn’t his home, put through all kinds of tests, had talked to over a dozen people who all acted like they knew him, kept forgetting he _didn’t_ know them and made all kinds of decisions for him and about him, and no one would really explain or tell him anything. It was infuriating.

Bucky came off the course, breathing hard and drenched in sweat. He didn’t look much calmer, which suited Steve just fine. He was spoiling for a fight.

“So do you finally have time to explain some things now that you’ve been benched, or what?” he called, striding up to the other man.

“Lay off, Steve. I really don’t need this right now,” Bucky said, visibly reigning himself in. That wouldn’t do.

“Why do you even care? What’s in it for you? Is solving this your ticket to the big leagues? You’re a heretic though, apparently, so what’s the deal?” Steve pushed.

“Fuck you, Steve. You’re my _friend_. That’s the only ‘deal’! You’re my friend, and someone took you and erased your memory and I just want to fix it!”

“And I only have your word for that! Everyone I ask who you are says to ask you, and getting anything out of you is like drawing blood from a stone! You won’t talk to me, you vanish as soon as I’ve done your tests, you keep whispering to everyone and looking away when I look over!”

“I know I’m not handling this well and I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with this, all right? You can be mad at me for it later, when you’re back to yourself.” Bucky said it without looking at him. The anger had drained out of him and he was sort of curling in on himself, angling away from Steve.

“Maybe I don’t want you messing with my head! You’re a _necromancer_! I don’t know you or anyone here! What gives you the right to make decisions about _my_ life, about Christine’s life? She wants nothing to do with Strange, but because he’s supposedly her husband, he gets a say and she doesn’t! What right do you have to decide that who I am now has less right to exist? Why do you get to make me into a different person?”

“Someone else already did,” someone said sharply behind him. “We are attempting to rectify a violation of your person, which might be one of the worst crimes there is.”

They turned to find Peggy, Sam and Wanda walking up to them.

“How much did you hear?” Bucky sighed.

“Enough,” Peggy said, tone making clear she better not catch them at it again. “James, I hate to do this, but you and the Howlies need to deploy as soon as possible. Strange’s sanctum is under attack.”

“I want to come,” Steve blurted.

“Absolutely not,” Peggy snapped. “For all we know, that’s what the attackers are hoping for and this is an attempt to retake you.”

“I can fight,” Steve insisted, “your own tests proved it.”

“They don’t need you,” Sam told him. “Be smart about this, please.”

Steve turned back to Bucky in frustration, as if _he_ might take him along, but Bucky wasn’t even paying attention. He was focused on Wanda, who had one hand in his braids to draw his brow to hers and was waving the index of her other hand under his nose, talking to him rapidly in a language Steve didn’t speak. The sight lodged in the back of his throat.

“All right, I’m going,” Bucky told Peggy and Sam, “and you two are going to hold this fort, and we better still have a home to come back to when we return.”

Wanda made a face at Steve. “Always so dramatic,” she mouthed.

“Stop catastrophising, it’s not good for you and it’s not going to happen,” Sam said. “Just focus on the job and on the clues you might find, and then you’ll have everything back to normal before you know it.” He hugged Bucky, thumping him on the back. “Go blow shit up, it’ll make you feel better.”

Bucky made a face, and went to kiss Peggy’s cheek. “I’m taking Wanda, too,” he said.

He made an aborted move towards Steve, didn’t quite look at him, and then walked away. Steve wanted to run after him, grab him, shake him until all the answers he wanted fell out.

“If you can’t ‘fix’ us,” he said, low enough that Bucky probably couldn’t hear it anymore, “will you let us go?”

“That man is going to break this spell if it’s the last thing he ever does,” Peggy said. Her voice brooked no argument.

“It doesn’t seem right that one person should be so important to a faith that they can’t be replaced,” Steve said stubbornly. “You’re serving a goddess, not a high priest.”

“I don’t know how you’re still so much yourself and so different at the same time,” Sam sighed. “It’s because you’re our friend and we care about you, you dumbass. You would be doing the same thing if your positions were reversed, only _he_ actually has a chance of figuring it out.”

“Hey!” Steve said.

“Look,” Peggy said, “I’m already fighting a battle in there, I don’t have it in me to fight you, too. If you don’t believe us and you don’t trust us and you really feel you must go back to that farm, I won’t stop you. You’re not our prisoner. _We_’re not your enemy.”

“Peggy!” Sam protested.

“Don’t you ‘Peggy’ me,” she said. “He’s stubborn as a mule in any incarnation. If he really thinks this is some ruse and we’re going to kill him instead of restore him, we’re not going to talk him out of it!”

“That’s not what I said!” Steve broke in. “I just don’t want all of this to be talked about and decided over our heads. I want him to talk to me! I want to know who he is! _I painted his tattoos on my wall because I dreamed about them_!”

Peggy sighed. “He’s Bucky,” she said. “He’s the head of your vanguard. He’s the one who’s been helping you build your dream. He’s the one who is going to solve this mystery.”

“Right now he’s mostly the guy who feels he’s failing you horribly,” Sam added, “and he doesn’t know how to deal with that. And he feels guilty about that, too.”

“There is something none of you are telling me,” Steve growled.

“There are a lot of things we’re not telling you,” Peggy said frankly, “because they’re not relevant or important right now, and you’ll know them all again in no time, and to be honest, the way things are right now, I can’t spare anyone to take the time to tell you all these things, anyway. I don’t even have time to be having this conversation, so I will leave you to it. Strange is going with Bucky as well, so if you’re concerned about Christine, now is the time to go see her and spirit her away if you feel you need to. See you both later.”

Steve pursed his lips, feeling chastised. He had been avoiding Christine yesterday and that morning in favour of uselessly chasing the sorcerer.

“I’ll bring you dinner later,” Sam said. She flashed him a tired smile and walked off.

“When this is over, we’re going to need some time to recover,” Sam said, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just pray the world will still look like the one we knew once we get there.”

Steve said nothing, but walked him back to his office.

By the time they finally made it back through the Citadel circle three days later, Bucky was angry enough to chew glass and having to exert all of his not inconsiderable willpower to keep his temper under control. He was worried about what they were coming back to and very concerned about what they’d just left behind. It didn’t help that Strange was utterly unapologetic about why they’d had to go out there in the first place. Bucky could still hardly wrap his head around it.

“But _two_ of them!” he urged. “Just sitting there on a workbench!”

Strange was fast running out of patience. “You should be more concerned about who is behind the theft and less about whether you consider my wards to be adequate,” he snarled.

Sharon came rushing into the atrium. “Good, you’re back. Peggy’s office, immediately,” she ordered.

Her tone and the worried look on her face were enough for the eight of them to troop after her without comment. They crowded into the office and Sharon closed the door behind them, moving to stand behind Peggy’s desk while her cousin rounded it to welcome them back with quick hugs.

“Look at the new bling!” Dum Dum said proudly, pointing out her new insignia to any who might have failed to notice. “Our girl, Temple Guardian.”

“What happened?” Gabe asked when Bucky couldn’t get the words out.

“We managed to buy some time,” Peggy said grimly. “They ultimately agreed to make me Guardian temporarily, and to watch for a sign from the Moonbow until the next full moon. If She chooses not to send us a sign by then, the Guardians will vote on a new Champion, after which I will be demoted again.”

“Steve getting his memories and full power back would be one hell of a sign,” Sharon said.

“That gives us a little over three weeks to find a way,” Wanda said.

“Got any fresh ideas while you were away?” Peggy asked.

“Not like we had a whole lot of time to sit around and contemplate the issue,” Bucky groused. “Can you believe this guy had two mythalar in his study, _two_, and they weren’t secured at all aside from the general wards on the building? My uncle never even got his hands on one and he gets two of them stolen and we couldn’t even find out who did it!”

“I had more important things to consider than even a couple of artefacts,” Strange bit.

“How are you not more concerned about this?” Bucky shouted. “Two mythalar!”

Peggy looked to the Howlies for a clue, but they were all kind of staring into space, clearly bored with an argument they’d heard play out more than once in the past few days.

“Boys!” she called. “What exactly is a mythalar?”

“It’s a spell battery, essentially,” Wanda said, “made by a now extinct civilisation.”

“You can use them to power up a magic field called a Mythal, which can do pretty much anything you want it to do,” Strange added.

“Yes, exactly!” Bucky snapped. “And you didn’t secure them or bring them here and now whoever it was can use them and set up not one, but _two_ Mythal to do whatever they damn well wish fo…” He trailed off abruptly and Wanda gasped.

“A wish,” Strange said.

“A wish that doesn’t behave like a wish,” Bucky said.

“It could be,” Wanda said.

“It’s a fucking Mythal,” Bucky breathed.

“How do you get rid of a Mythal?” Dernier asked.

“You unplug the mythalar,” Falsworth suggested.

“If we knew where the Mythal was physically located, sure,” Bucky said.

“So we find out where it is,” Sharon said. “Can we find out where it is?”

“We should definitely try, because our enemy now has at least three mythalar,” Bucky said.

“Let it go!” Peggy snapped. “Plan A, find Mythal, unplug mythalar, catch culprits. Can we work on a plan B in the meantime?”

“I think we can adapt some of the research Bucky and I have been doing,” Wanda suggested. “We’re trying to find a way to cross the divide between arcane and divine magic. A Mythal can’t be dispelled by normal means, but we could try using both magics as one.”

“Christine was working on combining the two, as well,” Strange said.

“Well, that means it’s going to work, then,” Morita said.

Everyone looked at him.

“Awfully convenient, isn’t it?” he explained. “Steve’s memories gone, Citadel hamstrung even if we’re not the direct target but only a threat. Christine’s memories gone, preeminent researcher into how to undo your magic weapon taken out. As a bonus, she was all of her husband’s common sense, which means there’s a good chance you can get your hands on some more magic weapons.”

Dum Dum swore loudly.

“Who knew you and Christine had mythalar and was she was working on?” Bucky asked.

“We collaborated with a few wizarding academies,” Strange said grimly. “There were papers. There’s no way to track the information.”

“Lady of Book and Bone,” Bucky swore, sagging against the wall. Wanda came and hugged him.

“So what I’m hearing,” Peggy said, drawing their attention back in, “is that we have two avenues of attack that might help us solve this by the next full moon. Yes?”

They all nodded or mumbled in agreement.

“So here’s what we’re going to do. Strange, you’re going to give us any intel you can about mythalar, Mythal, and your wife’s research. You’ll help Bucky and Wanda figure out how to dispel the enchantment. Use any personnel you need. Sharon, you and Natasha find this Mythal. Use any resource, any contact, cash in every favour, get anyone you need. The rest of you, eyes and ears open and be ready to go if needed. Clear?”

“Yes, Guardian,” the Howlies boomed, which made her scowl and throw them out of her office.

Thus dismissed they descended on the mess hall, which meant that word of their return got round fast, and soon they had a captivated audience come to hear the Howlies tell the tale of their latest adventure.

Bucky’s mind was already on the work ahead. He ate whatever Wanda put in front of him mechanically and let the voices and sounds around him wash away to white noise. A warm hand grabbing his shoulder snapped him out of it and he startled badly, stabbing his left elbow back and scrambling for a weapon with the right. Steve flinched and pulled his hand back.

“Sorry,” Bucky breathed.

“Me, too,” Steve said. “I didn’t realise you hadn’t heard me. Guess I’m lucky your first instinct wasn’t to throw a spell in my face.”

“It used to be,” Bucky said darkly.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “How did it go?”

“It was a mess,” Bucky said. “But we may know what’s wrong with y… I mean, we might be able to fix…” He trailed off, remembering their fight, remembering Steve saying he didn’t want Bucky in his head.

“Okay,” Steve said. “Just… keep us in the loop, all right?”

“Come by my office whenever you want,” Bucky said. He was staring, he knew, drinking Steve in, but he couldn’t help it. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I’ve talked with Christine a lot,” Steve said, “trying to work it all out. I’m… I’m sorry for what I said, before. I may not be sure about any of this, but I know you’re on my side.”

“’Till the end of the line,” Bucky managed.

Wanda chose that moment to come to his rescue after pretending not to notice the awkwardness going on next to her. “Until Strange brings us the research we may as well get some rest,” she said, “because I know how you get.” She leaned heavily into Bucky’s space to look at Steve. “Don’t you agree he looks tired?”

Steve immediately got A Look, fond but worried exasperation, that was so familiar it hurt. Usually it would be followed by a quick spell and a lecture Bucky knew by heart.

“You should listen to your apprentice,” Steve said. “You did just come back from a three-day mission.”

“Sure,” Bucky said. He knew when to fold. “I’ll sleep, but someone better come get me when anything happens.”

“Pinky swear,” Wanda said, like a liar. Bucky made a face at her.

Getting up put him right into Steve’s space. Two, three heartbeats; then Steve stepped back to let him pass. Bucky barely stopped himself from grabbing him to keep him close. He did need sleep.

“See you later then,” he blurted.

“Sleep well,” Steve said.

From the corner of his eye Bucky saw Wanda roll her eyes and thunk her head on the table.

He squeezed past Steve who turned with him, took a few steps back before he managed to turn his back on them and walk the long hallways to his rooms. He felt like he would vibrate out of his skin. He needed Steve, _his_ Steve, to talk him down, but that was impossible. Becca. He needed Becca.

A quick rummage through the box on his dresser produced the right sending stone.

“Becca?” he called. “Are you there, baby girl?”

He didn’t have to wait long for her voice to ring through the room, clear if slightly frail. It didn’t bear thinking about that his darling baby sister was almost ninety years old now and looked it, lacking the magic burning through Bucky’s own veins.

“Bucky! I’m so glad you called! How are you doing? Tell me everything!”

“Becca,” he said, and couldn’t stop himself from crying.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong? Sweetie, talk to me,” she said.

In stops and starts he told her the whole story.

“I don’t know what to do, Becca,” he cried. “I don’t know who did this, I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t know how to handle this Steve, I don’t know how to stop everything from changing, I don’t know if I can do this. I’m so tired, Becca.”

“I know, Bucky, I know. It’s all right to feel this way. But Steve is safe, with you, and you have time. Even if you don’t break the enchantment in time, things will still be okay. Carol will be Champion, and she’ll take on Steve’s work until you do break it and things can go back to how they were. Or Steve can have a think about his priorities and retire.”

Bucky snorted.

“Weirder things happen on a daily basis,” Becca said drily.

“What if they don’t choose Carol, though? Or any one in our favour?” Bucky said.

“They you do what you have to do,” Becca, still a merc at heart, said. “You take Steve, you take your people and any of his who want out, and you go. You come home to me and the rest of your family here, and you figure the magic out at your leisure. Then, when you’re done, you go back and retake your Citadel and everything it stands for.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Bucky said, smiling a little.

“Because it is, if you’re not so closely involved,” she said. “Bucky, I have to ask – have you considered this might be your second chance?”

“Second chance at what?” Bucky asked, even though he knew perfectly well what she meant. He’d been trying his hardest not to think about it.

“From what you said he’s still essentially Steve,” she pressed. “Just unburdened by his glorious purpose. Free of duty. Free to choose.”

“Becca,” he pleaded.

“Bucky,” she parroted.

“Of course I’ve thought about it!” he sighed. “Of course I did! But it’s not the same, Becca. He’s not the same. He’s not my Steve.”

“He could be,” she insisted. “You say he doesn’t fully agree with all of the memory restoration bit. You could ask him.”

“It would be wrong, Becca,” Bucky said. “I would never.”

“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be wrong. I’m just making sure you’ve considered everything there is to consider. I don’t want you to have any regrets when you look back on this. I know you have a lot to take into account, but the only thing I care about is you and you being happy. And you could have something you’ve been wanting for a decade, now, right or wrong.”

“Not like this,” Bucky said. “It wouldn’t be real. Not in a way that would be enough. I couldn’t take it. A shadow is not enough when I’ve been basking in the glow of the sun.”

“That sun is burning you to cinders,” Becca said, “and entirely unapologetic about it, if not oblivious, which might just be worse.”

“It’s the sun’s nature,” Bucky smiled sadly. “I made my choice a long time ago.”

“I guess you did,” she replied. “Well then, Vanguard, you have your plan of attack, and your fallback strategies. Call uncle Stark in the morning and sic him on Strange until he gets over the mythalar thing. After that he might prove quite useful.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Bucky smiled.

“You’re going to make it through this, Bucky,” she said. “You’re strong enough.”

“Thank you, baby girl. You always know just what to say,” he said. The lump in his throat was back.

“Call me any time you need me,” she said warmly.

They said good night and Bucky disappeared into the bathroom to wash and change before he could finally crawl into bed.

Out in the hallway, Steve closed the front door again as quietly as he could. He’d followed Bucky on a vague impulse that he wanted to stay near him, and when he’d reached his door he’d heard a voice he didn’t know and snuck it open to listen, mortified but unable to keep his curiosity in check. Curiosity, and some darker emotion. Now he could hardly make sense of what he’d heard. Was he jumping to the right conclusions? Neither of them had been entirely clear, but surely the only logical thing…

He stalked back to his own rooms, still not more than half familiar, more determined than ever to find out what exactly the sorcerer’s secret was.

When Steve and Christine came to visit the next morning, Bucky and Wanda were bent over boxes filled with notebooks and loose paper, and Strange was over by the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows yelling at someone who was not physically present.

“What’s going on?” Christine asked, gesturing to Strange and peeking into the boxes.

“Bucky’s uncle is a powerful wizard that specialises in magitek,” Wanda said. “He’s been very keen on mythalar for years but they’re only native to this plane and he’s never been able to get one.”

“So I called him for help this morning, because he’ll probably have some pointers for us, but of course I had to tell him how we knew it was a Mythal causing our problems,” Bucky added.

“I’m not sure next day revenge counts as served cold,” Steve mused.

“It’s quite satisfying nonetheless,” Bucky said. “They’ve been at it for almost an hour, I’m sure they’ll be done soon.”

Christine giggled. She was rooting around one of the boxes and pulled out a red and gold bound notebook.

“Try this one, first,” she said. “It seems more familiar.”

“Thank you!” Wanda said, flipping through the pages.

“We’ve been trying to organise these,” Bucky said, pointing to the next table where they’d made a few piles. “Maybe you can check our work?”

“I don’t even recognise my own handwriting,” she said ruefully, “but I’ll give it a try.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Steve asked.

“Not really,” Wanda told him with a pat on the arm. “You weren’t versed in magical theory even before you lost your memory.”

Steve scowled.

“First we’ll be reading through all of these notes,” Bucky said with a sigh. “See what Christine was doing exactly and how. Then we’ll see if we can fit that together with what we’ve been doing, and work on designing a matrix to give shape to the idea. Then we’ll have to test and modify until we get to a point where we can use it to break the spell.”

“It’ll be a while, yet,” Wanda said.

“You have time,” Steve said. “And a lot of brilliant minds working on the problem.”

“Sure,” Bucky smiled.

The shouting finally stopped.

“Time to get back to work,” Bucky said with a wink. “Feel free to hang around if you want.”

Steve did settle into one of Bucky’s many sofas and watched them work. The office was more of a lab where someone had made a corner to do paperwork in than an actual office. Tables with all sorts of equipment lined one wall, bookcases the other, and the desk stood sort of shoved to the corner by the window. There was a sad plant next to the door, a few sofas and comfortable reading chairs set up around the room in an indeterminate pattern but mostly facing the windows or the bookcases, and there were workbenches and tables everywhere, most of them in use, all seemingly for a different project. Part of Steve had expected to find at least a few skulls in a necromancer’s office, but the shelves were littered with ordinary knick-knacks and there were a few children’s drawings tacked up here and there. If felt quite cosy and lived in.

As the hours went on Steve walked the length of the bookcases, trying to get to know their owner by reading the titles and leafing through any that seemed readable. Vanguard members stopped by to drop off more books or to consult on something or other. Lunch came and went but the discussion never faltered. Finally the Howlies arrived with a cart piled high with food and forced the researchers to take a break. They took Steve back with them for some training games when they left, and he didn’t see Bucky again for the rest of the day.

It became a pattern alarmingly quickly. Bucky would work deep into the night and be at it again before the sun was even up – or still. He could usually be persuaded to have breakfast with Wanda or to eat lunch when someone shoved a sandwich in his face, but dinner fell by the wayside more often than not, and there was nothing Sam, Peggy or any of the others could do about it.

Steve had occasionally dropped by, but it only seemed to make the sorcerer even more nerve-wracked, and there was nothing he could contribute anyway, unlike Christine who had the occasional flash of insight.

“You can’t tell me that it’s always like this when he gets into something,” Steve said, appalled, after another day where Bucky hadn’t come to dinner and his tray had come back with yesterday’s food still on it.

“Not usually, no,” Sam told him with a sad smile. “You take him to task when he stops taking care of himself, and you’re the one he actually listens to. It’s more worrying this time, because he’d already lost weight during the weeks we were still trying to find you, and his bouts usually only last two or three days.”

“It’s been more than two weeks!”

“I know. He’s starting to panic about not finding the solution so he can’t sleep and works instead, but the lack of sleep is making it less and less likely the solution is going to materialise.”

Steve stood abruptly and hurried off.

“Hey!” Sam called after him.

“I’ll make him sleep if I have to sit on him until he does!” Steve called back.

He almost shoved his way through the office door, but the scene he found was not the one he’d expected. The magical lights were off and only a few candles still lit the room. Someone had closed the curtains. Bucky was asleep on one of the sofas, half covered with a throw, face drawn and hands clenching, exhaustion clear in every line of his body. Steve exhaled.

Gently he lifted him off the couch, taking care to keep the blanket wrapped around him, and carried him out into the hallway.

Bucky shifted in his sleep, clutched at Steve’s tunic with a free hand and pressed his nose to his throat. “Steve,” he mumbled, breathing him in. “Stevie, I miss you so much.”

Steve held him a little tighter. “I’m here,” he murmured. “It’s all right. Sleep now; you just sleep.”

He walked the hallways to Bucky’s rooms, half on instinct and half on memory, and found that the door unlocked at his touch. He settled the sorcerer on the bed, tucked him in and stroked his hair. Bucky made a small sound of distress when Steve let go of him, but quickly settled. On instinct, Steve healed him of the persistent ache in his neck, back and shoulders. Bucky’s brow smoothed out and he breathed more easily.

“This has gone far enough,” Steve told him, caressing his cheek. “Tomorrow we’re going to talk, and there will be no more secrets. You can’t go on like this, Buck.”

Bucky mumbled something unintelligible.

“Sweet dreams,” Steve said, and kissed his forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time Steve was up and ready to face him, however, the Citadel was in an uproar – a good night’s rest had apparently worked miracles, because the researchers had had a breakthrough, and their ritual was as good as ready to be performed. Steve rushed towards Bucky’s office and hoped it was not too late to have their conversation.

Bucky watched the chaos slowly organise itself under Peggy’s skilful ministrations. They’d briefed everyone who would be involved on what would be happening at moonrise, and most of them had followed him and Wanda back to his office with many more questions. He’d answered them all as best he could, but already he felt exhausted again. Peggy had come by with a question of her own, seen what was going on in his office, and had promptly ordered everyone back to their normal tasks.

“And you!” Peggy said, flagging Bucky down sternly. “Go get some rest. Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been doing to yourself these past few weeks, so when I say rest, I mean sleep. Goddess help me, if I catch you in your office in the next ten hours…”

Bucky ducked his head. “I’m fine, Peg, I promise, it’s just a little headache and it’s almost gone, anyway.”

Peggy was not deterred. “No complaining. We need you at full strength for the ritual. Food, then sleep. Have I made myself clear, James?”

Bucky made a face at the name. “Yes, ma’am.”

She gave him one final glare and marched off, shooing people out the door as she went. Bucky watched her go fondly, kissed Wanda on the cheek and sent her off, too. With a tired sigh he regarded his messed up desk and lab tables and did not feel like cleaning up at all, not even the easy way. Peggy was probably right.

The door snicked shut. Bucky looked up to find Steve. “There comes the headache again now,” he muttered.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Nothing,” Bucky waved, “what can I do for you?”

Steve seemed to mull over his words as he slowly came closer.

“I’ve been asking around,” he finally said. “So, Peggy is my right hand. Sam is my best friend. Natasha is my spy master. Clint, Dugan and Sharon are commanders. The Temple Guardians are my left hand and help me take care of the faithful. Everyone I meet knows me and has a part to play in my life. But whenever I ask about you, no one will give me an answer. Or rather, they all give me the same answer, except I can’t do anything with it.”

“What did they tell you?” Bucky asked, throat dry.

“They all say: ‘He’s Bucky’,” Steve said. “And I keep thinking, no one’s said anything about a spouse. No one’s mentioned a relationship or a significant other. You’re obviously suffering because of this whole thing, and you seemed pretty upset about Christine. So what exactly am I supposed to think, Buck?”

Bucky swallowed at the nickname. Steve stopped right in front of him, close enough Bucky could feel the warmth of him. He smelled amazing.

Bucky took a step back.

“Buck, tell me,” Steve said, so softly he was almost begging, “who are you to me?”

“I’m your Vanguard,” Bucky said helplessly.

Steve stepped in again, reaching for Bucky’s hand. “I don’t know what that means,” he said. Bucky let him loosely curl his fingers around his own.

“It’s simple,” he said. “I’m your first and last line of defence. I’m in front of you, next to you, behind you. I would kill and die for you. I’m with you ‘till the end of the line.”

“That sounds like a vow,” Steve said, leaning in. Bucky moved away again and Steve moved with him. “You can tell me, Bucky. You don’t have to hide it. I know what my body is telling me already. All of me is drawn to you, like you’re the sun and I’m the sunflower always turning to keep you in view. When I was married, I didn’t really want to touch my wife, but I want my hands on you all the time. You can’t tell me it means nothing, Buck.”

Bucky’s back hit the wall. Steve closed the distance between them, put his hands on Bucky’s hips, rested their foreheads together, nudged at Bucky’s nose with his own. Bucky’s arms came up, one across Steve’s back, the other over his shoulder to bury his fingers in Steve’s soft hair. “Bucky,” Steve whispered, and tilted his head.

Bucky’s fingers tightened in his hair and pulled, stopping him short.

“I am telling you,” he said, voice low. They were still close enough that Steve felt the words ghost over his lips. “We had this conversation ten years ago.”

“Ten…”

“When we met. We’d just saved the world and we were high on victory and adrenaline and each other so I asked. Oh, you thought about it. I’m sure you gave it careful consideration. But you have a purpose. Something you are utterly devoted to. And you always felt it wouldn’t be fair to anyone to ask them to always, always come behind that task. For even children to be less than your duty. You couldn’t live with that. So I’m not lying to protect you, or out of loyalty or whatever. We made a decision, and no matter what your body is telling you, you don’t actually want this.”

Steve looked at him incredulously. “But that was ten years ago! When we were young, and foolish – aren’t we more mature now? Able to make a more nuanced choice?”

Bucky laughed, not mockingly, but like he’d just realised Steve wasn’t in on a particular joke.

“How old do you think you are, Steve? Early thirties? Late twenties for me? You’re turning 101 in a few weeks. I turned 102 a few months ago. I’ve had this arm for nearly seventy years. You’ve been Sehanine’s priest for more than eighty, her Champion for almost twenty. You died in her service, Steve, and she brought you back in a body that matched your inner strength. You were a scrawny little thing before, and I’m only sorry that I never got to see you like that. But there was no ‘young and foolish’, Steve. Can’t play a card that’s not in your hand.”

Steve looked at him in distress. “Then why did you stay? Why did you make that vow to someone like that?”

“How could I not?” Bucky smiled, finally relaxing his hold on Steve’s hair and moving his hands to cup his face. “All my life I had no idea what all of the songs and poems were about, until I met you. Of course I would have you any way I could. Of course I would want to help you accomplish anything you are meant to accomplish. And maybe one day, when your fight is over, I will ask you again, and maybe then you’ll say yes, and maybe you won’t and I’ll still be your Vanguard, and none of it will change how I feel.”

“Bucky,” Steve moaned, and leaned in again as if he couldn’t help it. Bucky gently stopped him again.

“No Stevie, you don’t get to do that to me. I can’t take it. You can’t give me this and expect me to go back to not having it when things go back to normal.”

“What if you can’t fix it?” Steve whispered, the entire length of his body pressed against Bucky’s. “If things don’t go back, will you choose me then? Let me choose you?”

“No, Stevie,” Bucky said kindly, voice breaking on the word. “I won’t do that to you. Because you’re not him, and I would never stop looking for him when I look at you. I love you, Steve, but I love him so much more.” Tears were running down his face, and down Steve’s.

“I don’t understand,” Steve wailed, hiding his face in Bucky’s neck.

Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around him. “Don’t understand what, sweetheart?” he asked.

“How he can feel this much for you and still stand it,” Steve said, half muffled. “And he knows you, really knows you, so it must be so much more than what I’m experiencing.”

Bucky couldn’t think of anything to say, just clung to him even tighter.

“If there’s anything that comes from this,” Steve said, lifting his head to look Bucky in the eye, “if he remembers these weeks, I hope he realises what he’s letting slip through his fingers and stops being such a damn foolish hypocrite.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. Steve tucked his head back into Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky leaned his head on his, arms wrapped tight around each other.

They stayed like that for a long time.

Sam and Steve stood on a balcony overlooking the bustle of everyone getting in position and listening to yet another explanation of exactly what they were supposed to do. The vanguard bore it with much more grace than many of the other casters playing a part in the ritual. The Howlies were on the atrium floor as well, playing runner and entertaining Christine, who seemed drawn to the whole endeavour in much the same way Steve had felt drawn to Bucky. It made a weird kind of sense if you thought about it, although it probably also said uncomfortable things about their priorities that Christine connected more to her work than her husband, and Steve more to the lover he’d rejected than the work he’d chosen over him.

“I found out what it was you weren’t telling me,” he said.

“That you broke his heart, and broke yours at the same time, and that you both fixed your own hearts with pieces of the other’s, and you’re building a dream together, except it also made you inseparable and kind of co-dependent?” Sam replied, unimpressed. “I wonder why we didn’t lead with that. ‘Yeah, you’re seeing memory flashes of this guy’s tattoos because you told him you couldn’t be together and then proceeded to marry him in all but name and now you can’t live without each other.’ Don’t give me that look, Steven.”

Steve gave him some more of that look for good measure.

“At least tell me you’ve told ‘me’ what a colossal idiot he is,” he said, folding his arms on the railing and resting his chin on them.

Sam sighed. “All that was done and dusted by the time I got here. But Peggy probably did, if it makes you feel better. She has a soft spot for Bucky.”

The final few casters found their marks and the pattern started to emerge. Wanda was the focal point, with a circle of arcane casters around her. Four smaller circles of divine casters were set on the four cardinal points, and a ring of alternating casters around the five circles.

“Did you get what they’re actually going to do?” Steve asked.

“I’m not a caster, man, if they need someone to swing a sword I’m game, but I don’t have it in me to pay attention to a bunch of science magic hokum,” Sam replied, raising his hands. “I’m just leaving it to them.”

“They’re getting started,” Steve said, watching Bucky take his place in the ring around Wanda. The sorcerer was very focused, but Steve could read the tension in his shoulders.

Steve felt very nervous himself. Part of him really wanted it to work, more for Bucky’s sake than his own if he was very honest, but another part still fought against the idea, still wanted to go back. He wondered if it was part of the enchantment. He wished Bucky would look at him.

Wanda called on her magic, red energies swirling and branching out to the first circle. Then those casters fed their magic into hers, and the energy branched out again, and again, until luminous arcs of magic bound all of them together. Colours swirled and mingled and a strange kind of music could almost be heard. It was beautiful.

“They’re really doing it,” Sam breathed.

The ritual kept going, building up power. The colours all went to white and the otherworldly sound rang closer and closer to real. The atrium windows rattled but held.

The energy pulsed and then bloomed out, washing over the whole room. Steve felt it roll over him, hook on something in the back of his mind and move on. He shook his head, disoriented, and leaned forward over the balcony railing. Something was wrong and he needed to see Bucky.

Almost everyone was standing around, unsure of what to do with themselves. Dum Dum and Gabe stood by Christine, who was talking insistently at Strange and shaking her head ‘no’ while has clasped her hands in his and talked at her, trying to calm both of them down. Wanda was having half of a shouting match with Pierce’s aid, Rumlow, who was very vocal about the general incompetence of the Citadel personnel and the specific flaws of its Vanguard and his confidants. The Temple Guardians were having a heated, unintelligible debate.

In the centre of it all stood Bucky, looking up at him, and Steve had to watch the hope die on his face and his heart break all over again, see guilt and failure creep up his shoulders.

He jumped from the balcony, ignoring Sam’s alarmed shout, rolled instinctively and sprang to his feet already running for Bucky, needing to make it better.

“You’re still you,” Bucky said, anguished. “It didn’t work. It was supposed to work.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around him, drawing Bucky’s face down to the crook of his neck. “It’s going to be all right. You’ll figure it out next time,” he said, soothing, reassuring.

“I don’t have enough time,” Bucky said, muffled into Steve’s skin, “in less than a week they’re going to take everything away from you!” There were tears in his voice.

“Not everything,” Steve said softly. “Not you.”

Bucky clung to him desperately. “I’m so sorry, Steve,” he cried. “I’m so sorry for failing you.”

“None of that,” Steve said sternly. “You haven’t failed me, and you’re going to figure it out before the full moon. You’re just exhausted. You need sleep, and then breakfast, and then you can review everything with a clear head and the solution will come to you in no time.”

Bucky didn’t respond but just clung to him even more tightly.

“Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Steve said. “Let’s leave all of this be for now.”

All around them the chaos was still raging. Steve gently led Bucky out of the atrium and back to his rooms, pushed him into the bathroom and brought him soft, comfortable clothes to sleep in, led him to bed and tucked him into it. Leaned in to kiss his brow.

“Will you stay?” Bucky choked out.

“Of course I will,” Steve said, climbed onto the bed and settled down next to him on the covers.

Bucky curled into him, pillowing his head on Steve’s thigh. Steve pulled the blankets high around him, unravelled Bucky’s braids and started to run his fingers through his hair in slow strokes.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he said, voice low. “I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

He listened to Bucky’s hitching breaths smooth out, grow slow and deep with sleep.

_I love you_, he didn’t say, _I’m never letting you go_.

When Bucky woke up, Steve was reading next to him on the bed, propped up against the footboard with a bunch of pillows, beautiful and golden in the early morning light. Just for a moment, everything was perfect.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said, voice raspy with sleep, soft with everything he felt for Steve.

But instead of giving him The Look, Steve looked back at him, love and sadness writ large across his face, and it all came crashing back down on him, like a punch to the gut.

“Sorry,” he managed, out of breath.

“Did you sleep well, sweetheart?” Steve said, hesitation in his voice but determination in his face.

Bucky tried to swallow the lump in his throat but didn’t have much luck.

“Not really,” he said. “You?”

“Not at all,” Steve admitted. He put the book aside and shifted around until he was on his side next to Bucky, propped up on his elbow, chin in his palm. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Bad sign, that,” Bucky said.

Steve grinned. “You were very sure the ritual was going to work, right?” he then asked.

“Completely sure,” Bucky replied.

“If someone didn’t have a very high opinion of you and your work with the vanguard,” Steve went on, “what might they think you would do if your ritual failed and I couldn’t go back to leading my flock?”

It took Bucky a few moments to be able to reply.

“Take you and get the hell out of here,” he said.

“Right?” Steve said, obviously gearing up for something. Bucky shifted around under the covers, mirrored his position.

“Presumably Strange would take off, too. Maybe those in the vanguard who aren’t of the faith would go, as well, like Wanda and Natasha. When I vanished, you were all completely focused on getting me back, and then on fixing this mess. Quite a convenient time to get some things taken care of under the radar. Right?”

Bucky stared at him, trying to come up with a different conclusion than the one his mind immediately jumped to.

“They probably didn’t count on Peggy not alerting anyone until you actually found me, and they couldn’t just show up here in the know – none of our people here would have kept them posted; you, Natasha, Peggy and Sam are too good at your jobs for that. No spy stands a chance.”

“And you,” Bucky added. “They love you too much to go running to anyone else.”

Steve smiled sadly. “And him, sure. And the ritual should have worked. Your carefully designed and balanced ritual, with arcane and divine components.”

“Sabotage,” Bucky said.

“Sabotage,” Steve agreed. “I know who I’m thinking of. Who’s the first to pop into your head?”

Bucky scrambled out of bed. “Wanda, we need Wanda, now, and Strange,” he rambled, forgetting he could just call his clothes and instead hopping on one foot to get a random pair of trousers on.

Steve, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, paused on his way to the door to steady him. “You should missive her before she fireballs your face off for banging on her door at five in the morning,” he said.

“That is a lifesaving suggestion,” Bucky replied, and they were out the door and running down the hall.

Bucky did missive Wanda, and she yanked her door open right before he could bang on it.

“My office, right now!” he urged. “I’m going to get Strange. Steve, go with her, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Wanda called after him, but he was already racing down the corridor.

Strange was up, as it turned out, preparing to take his wife and get the hell out of there.

“We can still fix this,” Bucky said as soon as he opened the door.

“I’ll figure it out myself,” Strange told him. “I need to keep Christine safe, first.”

Bucky paused to really look at him. “Figured it out, too, huh?” he said.

“The ritual should have worked,” Strange simply said. “It could only be someone from your end.”

“Help us be sure and I’ll help you pack myself,” Bucky said.

Strange glanced behind him, into the room, at his wife.

“All right,” he sighed.

“My office,” Bucky said. “Christine better come, too. I’m not taking any chances.”

When they got to the lab, Wanda and Steve had already spread all of the ritual designs out over the table. Bucky waved Strange and Christine inside and locked the door behind them, spelling it shut and blanketing the room for good measure.

“All right,” he said, joining the others around the table. “We’re looking for ways to sabotage the ritual without drawing notice, and for who might have been capable of pulling it off. Wanda, I need you to balance the math.”

She nodded and snapped her hands up, palms facing inward at shoulder width, red glowing lights drawing the power lines of the ritual in the air, bright dots representing the different casters.

Strange stared. “Just like that?” he said.

“It’s what she does,” Bucky replied with pride. “Now, what is the best approach?”

They poured over the designs and looked over Wanda’s model for a few minutes.

“The way we’ve set it up, there’s only one feasible way to do it,” Strange finally said. “Every participant was placed on a balancing point, and anyone just not joining in would have been immediately apparent. So they would have to connect, and then not feed anything more than the bare minimum to stay linked into the ritual.”

“I agree,” Wanda said.

“All right,” said Bucky, “how many can we lose before the ritual fails?”

“That depends on who we’re losing,” Wanda said, focussing on her model. “Everyone stayed linked throughout, so we're looking for anyone who would have enough control over their power to pull it off.”

“So most likely experienced and powerful casters,” Strange said, “which almost certainly means some of your leaders.”

“Or casters from the vanguard,” Christine said delicately, “both arcane and divine.”

“In theory, sure,” Bucky allowed. “We are most likely only looking at divine casters, though, since we would have known if the arcane side was off.”

“Not to brag about how good we are, or anything,” Wanda said, winking at Christine.

“Take out Pierce,” Steve said.

They all looked at him sharply.

“You’re all thinking it, too,” Steve pointed out.

“Absolutely,” Bucky agreed, “but I’m biased.”

“He always sounds quite reasonable until you stop and think about it again,” Wanda added.

“He wanted me replaced, you both gone, and the vanguard disbanded,” Steve said. “Sam said.”

“For the good of the faith, no doubt,” Wanda said, rolling her eyes. One of the red dots dimmed. “Pierce alone is not enough, though.”

“Ross. And his son,” Bucky said.

“Stane too, then?” Christine said. “He voted for another high priest, as well.”

“Not Hammer, though,” Bucky said meanly, “that idiot doesn’t have the skill.”

“Still not enough,” Wanda said.

“Who else can you think of who could do it? Regardless of whether or not they’re in on it,” Steve asked.

“Carol,” Bucky said. “Every vanguard member that was plugged in. Fury, maybe? Maria Hill, for sure.”

“Maria Rambeau if Carol helped her,” Wanda said. “She has a lot of juice that she probably couldn’t all keep back, but if she channelled that off into Carol instead of the link, Carol could block it off for her.”

“None of these people are actual suspects though, by the look on your faces,” Christine pointed out.

“No,” Wanda agreed.

“You said Maria could do it with Carol’s help,” Steve said. “Could Pierce do that?”

“Take out Rumlow,” Bucky said.

“Almost,” Wanda said.

“Rollins,” Steve suggested. “You never see Pierce without Rumlow, and you never see Rumlow without Rollins.”

“The ritual matrix keeps going,” Wanda said, “but we’re not generating enough power now. And no one would notice unless you were really focussing on it, because of the nature of the link we established, and we were all too busy concentrating on feeding the spell.”

“I apologise, Christine,” Bucky said, meeting her eye with sorrow on his face, “and to you, too, Strange. I promised you would be safe here if you stayed, but that was obviously not true.”

“Just have your vanguard detain them and we’ll do the ritual again,” Strange said.

“It’s not that easy,” Bucky said, face drawn. “Even if Peggy ordered us to, the Temple Guardians don’t have that kind of authority over each other by themselves, and we won’t get Fury, Carol and Frigga to agree just on our say so. We need proof.”

“So we’re back at square one,” Strange said bitterly, “a wife who doesn’t know me, a ransacked stronghold, stolen mythalar, and no solution.”

“At least we have them back and know it’s a Mythal, now,” Wanda said, putting a calming hand on Steve’s shoulder, who’d been ready to leap to Bucky’s defence.

“You’re right,” Bucky told Strange. “You and Christine should stick to your plan and go somewhere safe. We were too focused on finding a fix, but now we’re going straight to the root cause. We are going to find the Mythal and the person casting it, and that will give us the proof. In the meantime, we’re only telling the Howlies. We can’t compromise Peggy now that she’s Guardian, but we need Natasha and Sharon, and Clint. They haven’t stopped working on finding the Mythal.”

“We need Sam for logistics, and also he’ll kill you himself if you don’t bring him in,” Wanda said.

“I’m coming, too,” Steve said. His voice brooked no discussion, but Bucky spent a few moments trying and failing anyway, a silent argument that the other three daren’t interrupt.

“Fine,” he said eventually. “Not like it’s safe anywhere, now.”

“Let’s get to work,” Wanda said.

“Nat, I need good news,” Bucky said as soon as they slammed the door to her office shut behind them half an hour later.

“Do you,” she said, eyeing the three of them over her desk, clearly not impressed. “What’s going on? Why are you even awake?”

“You’re awake!” Bucky retorted.

“Some of us work for a living,” she snarked.

“Nat, the ritual was sabotaged,” Steve cut in, “which means plan B is now plan A and we need to implement it as soon as possible.”

Natasha took this in stride. “Do you know who did the sabotaging?”

“We have an idea but no proof,” Wanda said.

“If we’re wrong…” Bucky said.

“Unless you’re going to tell me, it doesn’t matter to me right now,” Natasha said. “Either way we need the Mythal’s location yesterday.”

“If at all possible,” Steve said.

“The best I currently have for you is something that’s definitely not a Mythal,” Nat said, grabbing the report off her desk and passing it to Bucky, “but it’s something else very powerful and rare. We were going to send a team to follow up on it today, but you may as well go yourselves. You’ll be out of the Citadel if nothing else.”

“We’re taking the Howlies,” Bucky said.

“Get Sam to outfit you for a few weeks,” Natasha said. “Clint and I are coming, too. Sharon can handle things here and you’ll need us in the field if it turns out to be nothing.”

“Thank you, Natasha,” Steve said.

“I expect a very nice gift for Midsummer,” she said.

Three hours later they were all assembled in Bucky’s office, running final checks. Sam stuffed a few more scrolls and potions into Clint’s backpack and came over to hug Steve and Bucky goodbye.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he told Steve. “No one would fault you for thinking better of this expedition.”

“I’m going,” Steve said. “It’s my fight.”

“All right, man. Just promise me you’ll be careful. You’re not playing with a full deck.”

“I will. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky said. “Watch your back, and Peggy’s.”

“Sharon has her six, and I’ve got my eyes and ears open,” Sam assured them. “You think about yourselves.”

“We’re ready to go,” Natasha reported.

“No time like the present,” Bucky sighed. “Gather up, everyone! Let’s go see what’s going on.”

They materialised in a forest clearing, right outside a cave mouth. So far, so good.

The Howlies fell into formation easily, keeping the others in between them. Morita took point and they advanced into the cave. They didn’t have to go far before they ran into a ward.

“Is anyone else experiencing an acute sense of panic right now?” Clint asked airily.

“It’s the ward,” Gabe said. “Easy trick to keep people out without needing a lot of guards, traps or other deterrents. Just make sure no one wants to come close to it.”

Wanda put a hand on the ward and sent her own power pulsing through it until it shimmered out of existence. “Better?”

“Much,” Clint said.

“Surely that won’t be the only defence,” Morita said.

“No idea,” Natasha said. “Our informant got a sense of a powerful magic behind the ward but couldn’t make it past it.”

“Let’s find out,” Dum Dum said.

They found a few traps, both magical and mundane, but Bucky and Clint made quick work of those. Other than that, the caves were empty.

“Why would you not have guards, though?” Clint was saying to Dernier when they finally happened on the thing they’d come here to investigate.

“What in the nine hells is that?” Dum Dum breathed.

“I’m getting sick just looking at it,” Gabe said.

The portal hung about a foot from the ground and looked out on a realm that swirled with every colour imaginable and a few more that didn’t even have names. Shapes appeared and warped into different shapes and everything kept moving and shifting. The effect was nauseating.

“Where does it go?” Natasha asked.

Bucky stepped up to it and cast a few spells. “It doesn’t go anywhere,” he frowned.

“It’s a tesseract,” Wanda said, waving her fingers, shaping the flow of energy seeping out of them.

“What’s that?” Steve asked.

“It’s an artefact that creates a space you can live in, and then hides that place in a maze shaped like a hypercube,” she said. “You have to travel along the 24 sides and make it past any obstacles on them to get to the centre, unless you have the key.”

“That explains why there aren’t any guards,” Dernier told Clint.

“That sounds like something you might put around the spot you’ve put your Mythal in,” Dum Dum said.

“But we can’t be sure?” Falsworth asked. “Can you sense what’s at the centre?”

“No,” Bucky said. “I barely understand what this thing is; I’d never heard of one before.”

“So now the question is, do we bet the farm on this being the hiding place?” Morita said.

“I’d like to study it for a while, see if we can find something to confirm this is the answer,” Bucky said. “Either way, we have to investigate this thing sooner or later; we can’t just leave it here in the middle of nowhere being suspicious.”

“We’ll make camp outside,” Steve said. “You and Wanda can do some investigating and we’ll check back with Sharon to see if any other leads have turned up.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky said.

The others left them to it and Bucky and Wanda set to finding out if they could detect any traces of the by now familiar Mythal signature. They didn’t have much luck.

“I can’t believe you even knew what this was,” Bucky said, wracking his brain for anything else they could try.

“I read about one years ago,” Wanda said dismissively. “Look, we’ve tried everything there was to try. If one of us steps in, we might be able to feel it, then.”

“And float off into _that_?” Bucky protested.

“I think it’s another deterrent,” she pressed. “There’s normal space behind there, and what we’re seeing now is just a very potent illusion that’s somehow deflecting our spells.”

“Darling, I’m not letting you go in there!” he said.

“You know I’m the best candidate,” she said. “I’m doing it!”

They looked at each other, she determined, he worried.

“All right,” he finally relented, “but we’re holding both hands the whole time!”

“Fine, fine,” she sighed, but put her hands in his and squeezed tight.

She stepped through.

“I can’t see you anymore,” he called. “Your arms are sticking out of the void.”

“I can’t see you either, but I’m standing on a field,” she called back. “My forearms just vanish into thin air.”

“Are you safe? Can you detect anything?”

“I don’t see any threats,” she said. “Give me a few moments.”

They were the longest moments of Bucky’s life.

“It’s so faint I’m almost not sure I’m sensing it,” she finally called, “but it feels the same as the enchantment on Steve.”

“Good enough for me. Come back through, right now!” he said, already pulling on her hands.

She came back through without a problem.

“Thank the Lady,” Bucky breathed, and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m fine, mum,” she teased, patting his back.

“Don’t mock me, young lady,” he replied, “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t been able to make it back.”

“You’d have come get me,” she said. “Simple as that.” He kissed her brow.

“Let’s go tell the others,” he said.

They emerged from the cave to find that night had fallen and the others had dinner waiting for them.

“Well?” Natasha asked.

“This is it,” Bucky said. “The Mythal is in there.”

“Bad guys: zero, rumour mill: two,” Clint said.

“We know what to do, then,” Steve said. “Everyone, get all the rest you can. We’ll go at dawn.”

There was a snort somewhere at the back and Bucky had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Instead, he pulled Steve to the fire with him to sit and eat and wait for morning, when all of this might be over.

The message came as they were breaking up camp – even fifteen minutes later and they would have been gone, into the portal and the strange maze behind it. Sharon’s voice sounded clear in their heads: _the Citadel is under attack. All units, return at once. The Citadel is under attack. We need all hands._

“They figured out what we’re doing,” Steve said grimly. “Either noticed we were gone and decided to play it safe, or we set off some kind of alarm yesterday.”

“We can’t go back now,” Clint said. “We’ll never get another chance!”

“But the Citadel...” Dum Dum said.

As a man, they turned to Bucky.

“No!” Bucky barked. “No way!”

“You have to,” Natasha told him. “Clint is right, we need to keep going, but you have to go back.”

“I’m not leaving you to go through that portal to face whatever hellscape is on the other side!” Bucky said.

“We’ll have Wanda,” she insisted, “and you know exactly what unit one is capable of. And Steve is with us. _She_ is with us. You know it!”

“I don’t want to!” Bucky cried, eyes red and tears welling up. “I already lost him once, Nat, I can’t do it again!”

Steve stepped forward but Wanda was faster, taking Bucky’s face in both hands, wiping his tears away with her thumbs. “I won’t let anything happen to him, Bucky. To any of them. But you’re the Vanguard. They need you.”

He held on to her delicate wrists and nodded, squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deep. “All right,” he said, “all right, I’ll go. But the lot of you better fix this. And you better all come back.”

“You got it, Barnes,” Dum Dum assured him, thumping him on the shoulder.

Wanda pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek, then hugged him quickly and rushed off to help with the final preparations.

“We move in five!” Natasha ordered, and made urging motions at Steve while she walked off, as well.

“I feel like I’m still not grasping this Vanguard thing,” Steve said, stepping in to shield Bucky from the bustle around him, so close together they were almost pressed against each other.

Bucky closed his eyes and breathed him in. “It’s the arm,” he said, waggling his fingers. “I’m connected to the magic that suffuses the world, like any sorcerer, but instead of borrowing power to the limit of what the body can handle and letting it go again each day, my excess gets stored away. Spells used to harm me get absorbed and added to the pool. That means I can keep going almost indefinitely. If you had something like this, you could heal the world. On me, it was always a weapon. The people who put it on me meant for it to be a weapon, and me. I was saved, but until I met you, it was still only a weapon. Now it’s a shield.”

Steve took Bucky’s left hand, cradled the back of his skull and rested their foreheads together. “So you have to go, and shield our people,” he said.

“I know,” Bucky replied miserably. “Come back to me, Stevie. End this and come back to me.”

“I promise,” Steve said, and started to load Bucky up with every spell his instincts told him the sorcerer might need, even if he didn’t remember their names or how he knew them, made him just a little faster, stronger, quicker on the uptake, more alert, better rested. Protected by faith and love. “You promise you’ll still be standing when we make it back,” he urged.

“I promise,” Bucky said, and they hugged as tight as they could manage until Natasha broke them up.

Bucky watched them march through the portal into that nightmare realm, and went to do his duty.

Bucky had no idea anymore how long he’d been up on the battlements. All he still knew was that the enemy was in front, and the people he loved were behind him, so he couldn’t stop. Could not fail. He was starting to wonder if he would.

They just kept coming. There were portals out of his reach that spewed a seemingly endless line of foes, both living and not. Constructs made out of metal and clay, elementals, summoned beings in all shapes and sizes, monsters too horrid to imagine. And people.

The sprawling gardens and courtyards that had formed the Citadel grounds were completely ruined. Bucky had done much of that himself on the first day when he had called forth the army he’d been building throughout the years: gargantuan dragons, a four-armed girallon, a giant, all sorts of monsters defeated and brought back to be buried around the Citadel, waiting for a moment just like this. On that first day they had trampled over the first wave of the enemy army, but slowly but surely all of Bucky’s hoard had been taken apart and destroyed by the waves that followed. Their bones still littered the battlefield.

On the first night, Bucky had risked leaving his place to rampage over the enemy encampment, shapechanged into the kind of horror most people never even saw in their nightmares, and killed any who had lived through the day.

On the second day a new army had stepped through, to be met by the shambling horrors fashioned out of their comrades’ corpses. The Citadel had suffered no casualties – aside from a few skirmishes, the vanguard hadn’t needed to engage. Yet.

While the enemy had been facing their own dead, Carol had gone out, Maria by her side. Many vanguard members not on duty had climbed the battlements to watch, and even Bucky had let himself get distracted enough to watch her instead of the horizon. She’d mowed through the ranks unafraid of getting hit, because Maria was her shadow and her shield and none would get through. She had fought and cast and flowed from target to target, glowing with starfire; Sehanine’s Favoured Soul.

It had been much like watching Steve wade through his enemies and Bucky couldn’t help but falter for a single moment because what if, what if? If Steve did not come back, or Wanda, or Natasha and Clint, or the Howlies. If Steve did come back but would never be himself again. If Bucky failed to keep everyone he loved safe.

If the Citadel fell, Steve might still live, he told himself. Wanda might still live. His uncle and aunt and niece, his sister and her children and grandchildren would still be safe.

And he wouldn’t fail. The heart of the Citadel, the bulk of the main building, was protected by ancient magitek this army would not be able to breach, and anyone on the inside would never risk damaging the irreplaceable – and irreparable – artefacts trying to tamper with them. The civilians were safe. The vanguard off rotation were barricaded inside to rest and recover. They would make it until their Champion returned to set things right, and in the meantime their Vanguard would crush anyone who even thought to harm them.

Carol had kept going for hours before Maria called the retreat. Bucky had used what was left of his undead to clear them a path, but the enemy did not pursue. They had built fortifications around the portals, but they had learned and retreated through for the night, rather than provide the necromancer with more materials.

Bucky had instead sent the vanguard to destroy the fortifications and dispel the portals, and then to use the rubble to obstruct them when it turned out they were not that easy to close.

“The enemy has a lot of resources,” Peggy had said grimly.

“Tomorrow we’ll have to meet them on the field,” Fury had said. “Three shifts with full support should do it, and one of us with them out there at all times.”

He’d had both hands on Bucky’s shoulders, who at that point had barely slept or eaten because he’d either been overseeing the vanguard or mastering the dead, and let every ounce of rejuvenating magic he had flow into the sorcerer – something many of the vanguard clerics had been doing for him and the other first line defenders, renewing the spells Steve had put on him and keeping him rested. He was the Shield. He could not waver.

On the third day, the Citadel had gone to war. When the enemy came back through, the vanguard was there, turning each breach into a bottleneck, until the enemy shoved siege machines through and forced the defenders to retreat. Barrier spells had gone up and the machines were taken out, but the attackers had already been pouring out.

The vanguard had met them blow for blow, perfectly in formation, the way they’d been trained to do, with their Temple Guardians right there at the front with them. Thor and Loki fought like demons, perfectly in sync, along with their retinue, all armed with the same kind of magitek they themselves wielded. Carol flew over the battlefield, bringing down the heavens themselves. Fury, tactician and general, expertly directed his squad wherever it would be most useful right at that moment, rescuing bogged down allies or bringing needed reinforcements in a clutch. Peggy made sure they had all the supplies they needed and kept the shifts on schedule, kept the support going strong. The others did not come.

The fight had soon become an endless slog, a dance without finesse that repeated the same steps over and over. Bucky would rain down hellfire and acid, call down lightning, grab the newly dead body of an enemy to stand guard over a heavily wounded ally, force paths so the injured, dying and dead could be carried back to the Citadel to be healed, rejuvenated, resurrected – and sent back out on their next shift. Whenever enemies clustered together, he would pull them into the earth, evaporate all the water in their bodies, make them attack each other.

He had constantly been flanked by other vanguard who did the same, who cast barriers and sanctuaries or monitored the fighting so reinforcements and healers knew where to be. Every so often someone had passed behind them to re-up their buffs, to soothe and to renew, and they had just kept going and going and still there came no end to the line of enemies stepping through from gods knew where. The style of their armour changed, the make of their weapons, but none of it had been identifiable at a glance. They’d think about it later.

The enemy had still been retreating every night, but the days provided more than enough resources, anyway. Every night, a wall of undead defenders had stood guard over the sleeping inhabitants of Moonbow Citadel, and their master had stood on the battlements, silent, waiting.

Bucky thought he might be going a little bit insane, but Steve was still not back – and the Citadel had not suffered any permanent casualties so far.

On the however manieth day, the teleportation wards began to tremble. They’d been set up so any travel magic aimed for the Citadel proper manifested on the courtyard or promenade, but the rest of the grounds and the actual Citadel buildings were unreachable unless you had the circle signature – it also nicely forced any attacker to have to come from far outside, or from the front, and that strategy was proving to work out quite well for the Citadel these last few days. Whoever this was did not have the signature, or was not yet prepared to reveal that they did, and were trying to come through anyway.

“They’re trying to break through to attack us from the back,” Bucky told Sharon next to him. “I’ll go hold them off.” It would mean letting his undead fall apart, but this seemed more urgent.

“Don’t wait to call backup if they make it through,” she replied.

He took himself right to the breach, on the mess hall terrace – close to the hospital and the civilian quarters, both. Something felt off about it, not quite like travel magic. He hadn’t been able to make the time to go out and look at the portals, but from what others had described, they all felt like this. Familiar. Like violation, and proof. Like Mythal.

Before he could call anyone to come back him up, both in the observation and the dispelling, they broke through. Bucky had only a few seconds, but that was enough. Horrified understanding washed over him when he saw the insignias on their uniform, felt the pull of his home plane on them, saw the way they reacted to seeing him waiting for them.

They were Hydra.

Hydra had found him and come for him and had almost destroyed Steve and all he – they – had built in the process. None of this was really about Sehanine and her faithful. Pierce was _Hydra_, and all of this was because of Bucky. With a roar he burst out of his limiting flesh, took a shape large enough to express his rage, a rampaging dragon, untouchable; and tore them apart. When they were dead he used them to hold back the next wave while he borrowed the power of the wards to strengthen his own, mix some divine into his arcane power to break the Mythal’s hold and close the portal.

No doubt they would try again, but it would take them at least a little while and any delay might be all the time Steve and the others still needed. He had a more immediate problem, anyway. There was no more time to wait for proof.

He raced back, just in time to see Rumlow and Rollins walk onto the battlements and go straight for the casters, casually, like Bucky had not just slaughtered another score of their comrades.

_Sharon!_ he missived.

He saw her start and turn to search for him. When she saw him, he sent: _Do you trust me, Sharon?_

She frowned but nodded immediately.

_Take out Rumlow and Rollins. Right now. Take them out!_

She was off like a shot before his first sentence was finished, going straight for Rumlow who was heading right for Cameron, already reaching for a knife. She punched him full on the nose, breaking it and sending him staggering back.

Rollins broke off his own trajectory and rushed back to flank her. Bucky threw a lightning bolt at him, forcing him to break off again.

“What the hell are you doing, you bitch?” Rumlow barked.

“My Vanguard says you need taking out, so I’m here to oblige,” Sharon said. “We can do this the easy way if you want to surrender, but I don’t object to the hard way.”

“Like you stand a chance,” Rumlow scoffed.

Sharon shrugged in reply and then kicked out at him, so quick he could barely block her. Rumlow might be a well-trained fighter, but so was she, and a more powerful cleric to boot. Bucky wasn’t worried.

He focused all of his attention on Rollins, who had spotted him and was advancing, like an idiot who didn’t realise Bucky could do all sorts of damage to him with a flick of his wrist.

“Really, Jack?” he said, waving a hand and making the other man stop dead in his tracks. “Run at the sorcerer in a straight line?”

The stone beneath Rollins’ feet turned to mud and back to stone, capturing him. He managed to break out of the mental hold right away, but by the time he could shape the stone enough to get free Bucky was there, swinging his mace with all his might. He struck the other on the side of the helmet and Rollins crumpled.

Bucky looked over to find Sharon had dealt with Rumlow, too. Cameron was tying him up with thick vines.

“Sharon!” Bucky called. “Get them to Peggy and get Fury and Carol, and Thor and Loki, any of them who are not on the battlefield. Tell them Pierce, Stane and Ross are with the enemy, and that the enemy is Hydra. Steve is coming back with proof, and we were going to wait for the proof, but if they’re Hydra they want us all dead and me back as their asset and we can’t risk them running around in the Citadel anymore. You have to convince them, Sharon!”

She looked at him for a moment, two, putting things together.

“I’ll try,” she finally said, “but you better be right about all of this!” She waved a finger under his nose and ran off before he could thank her.

“Cameron, please get Rumlow and Rollins to Peggy’s office,” he ordered, “and see if Sharon needs any more assistance.”

Cameron nodded, conjured a platform, levitated the bodies on it, and directed it down the access stairwell.

Bucky rushed back to the front to see how the fight was going. Loki was in his place, bringing down hell on the enemy with Sif next to him, wielding an Asgardian power bow and sniping at siege weaponry with arrows of pure force.

“Sharon called for some magical reinforcements while you were dealing with the ward breach,” he said. “Take a break, Vanguard, you’ve been up here for days.”

“They’re powering the portals with a Mythal,” Bucky said. “It’s why we’ve had so much trouble closing them. Will you take Thor, Carol and Leo or Gemma and go close them?”

“It’s a long way across the battlefield,” Sif said. “We’ll bring Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun.”

“You’ll have Maria, too, she won’t let Carol go alone. They’ll probably be in Peggy’s office, deciding what to do about the enemy within, so wait until they’re done shouting, but hurry up afterwards,” Bucky added.

“Enemy _within_?” Sif demanded, but Loki simply nodded. “Tell me what to do,” he said.

“In essence, the same thing we did when we tried to break the hold over Steve and Christine, just fed into the portal,” Bucky said.

“Simple enough,” the conjurer replied. Bucky looked unimpressed and he grinned. “Make a wedge for us, if you’d be so kind, necromancer,” he said, slapped Bucky on the shoulder, and off they were.

Bucky sighed and took up his position once again. He reached out to hook his magic back into the corpses on the battlefield. For the first time in over a decade, he was running out of juice. His arm very nearly depleted, most of his rods of absorption spent. He wouldn’t be worth overmuch without them, not without Steve by his side or his team at his back. He would have to make do until then. He prayed for them to be safe, to return to him, to make it back quickly, to Wee Jas, to Sehanine, to the Weave and the universe.

An hour later Loki, Thor and Carol emerged at the head of their strike team and Bucky used every body at his disposal to drive a wedge in the enemy ranks for them to make it through as fast as possible. They didn’t have time to go around; they needed the portals closed _now_.

Peggy came up next to him. “We’ve secured them in their quarters,” she said curtly. “I’m leaving the rest up to Steve.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “You should have brought me in on it right away, you wankers.”

“Sorry, Pegs. We didn’t want to make things even harder on you.”

“What, like now?” she scoffed. “How long have you been up here, anyway?”

“How long have we been at it?” he asked.

“You’re not funny,” she said.

“I’m not kidding,” he said ruefully. “I lost track.”

“Six days,” she said.

“And Steve is still not back,” Bucky said, croaking around the sudden lump in his throat.

“No,” Peggy said, and set a hand on his left shoulder.

In the distance, the impossible portals began to snuff out.

“Deploy everyone you can,” Bucky said, and jumped down the battlements, already warping, already opening gargantuan wings.

With no more reinforcements and nowhere left to go, no enemy combatant or siege equipment was left standing by nightfall.

Bucky was completely drained. He found Carol and staggered over to her. She was overseeing the transport of the wounded, the recovery of the dead.

“None of them agreed to surrender,” she said numbly. Bucky didn’t know what to say, so he just stood next to her, shoulder to shoulder, and took in the devastation.

Loki came up to them.

“Great work with the portals, both of you,” Bucky told them.

“I’ll take the compliment,” Loki said, “but we only closed one. The others went down on their own.”

“What?” Bucky breathed. Did that mean…

“Carol!” Maria called, running up to them. “They need you back inside. You two, as well.” She came to a halt next to them, smiled encouragingly at Bucky.

“Steve and the others are back.”

They had to walk. The way had never seemed so long before.

When they reached the colonnade, Bucky found his second wind and ran up the stairs, hit all of a sudden by the full realisation of what was going on: Steve was back, and Wanda, and his Howlies, and Nat and Clint. They’d made it. They had found the source of the Mythal and taken it out. Surely that must mean… It _had_ to mean…

A flash of red caught his eye and Wanda came racing out of the atrium to meet him. She flung herself into his arms and he spun her around in the air before crushing her to him.

“You did it,” she was saying, “you kept them all safe,” and he was saying, “you made it back, I was so worried, I never wanted to leave you alone, did you do it? Did it work?”

Carol, Maria and Loki caught up with him, and with a soft smile the Temple Guardian interrupted their reunion.

“I can already hear Steve ranting from here, so we better go in, brief him on what he missed.”

Cold dread settled in Bucky’s gut. Would it be his Steve in there? Would he still remember the past few weeks or would it seem to him like he’d gone to bed and woken up in the middle of a fight? Would Bucky be strong enough to handle whatever came next? He shot Wanda a panicked look as het let her go, but she only smiled and kissed his cheek, nudged him towards the atrium.

The very first thing he saw, stepping from the shadowed colonnade into the atrium, bathed in warm afternoon light, was Steve, shining and golden, resplendent, aglow in righteous fury. His Steve. Restored, whole, every inch his goddess’ Champion.

Bucky loved him beyond the telling of it, beyond the thinking of it. His knees felt weak, and then Wanda was there by his side to steady him, and Dum Dum and Gabe and Falsworth and Morita and Dernier, all in one piece, unscathed. Natasha stood behind Steve, keeping a close eye on a mousey man in frayed robes that sat kneeling in nullifying chains in front of her. Clint was to her left, arrow trained on him at all times.

“The rat at the centre of the magic maze,” Wanda muttered. “We recovered three mythalar and the tesseract he used to hide himself in. Nat barely had to threaten him before he started spilling secrets. Said Hydra will come for him. Don’t think he counted on you having already put everyone under arrest. Or surviving, take your pick.”

“Just him?” Bucky asked.

“No,” Wanda replied, “not just him,” and pointed to the side, where a body was laid out under a tarp.

Steve was telling the assembled Temple Guardians about what they had been doing on their mission, how they’d found the wizard Zola and the Mythals he’d been guarding, how they’d broken the spell on Steve and Christine and any others the mythalar had been powering. How they had found the proof needed to show the involvement of Pierce and the others. Guards were sent to drag the culprits from their rooms to stand before their Champion.

Steve looked around the atrium when his last words had rung out, judging reactions and challenging anyone present to contradict him. Many of the clergy and servitors were present, as well as any vanguard not on duty. No one seemed inclined to, but shock was clear on many faces – to be betrayed by their Temple Guardians on top of the siege they’d just lived through was a lot to process for many of them.

Then Steve spotted him. His shoulders slumped in obvious relief.

“Bucky,” he breathed, and reached out for him, took a step in his direction. Bucky was running before he realised it.

Steve wrapped him in strong arms and Bucky buried his face in his neck, clutched at his tabard, breathed him in and tried to hide in him and did his best not to start sobbing.

“You’re back,” he managed. _Back safely, back to yourself, back to me_, he didn’t say.

“I’ll always come back to you, Buck,” Steve murmured, so that maybe not everyone else in the atrium would hear it too. There was something in his tone that made Bucky look up, look at him and let the rest of the world fall away.

“Bucky,” Steve said again, endlessly tender, cupped his face gently, slowly, and kissed him.

Bucky let his eyes flutter shut, wrapped long fingers around Steve’s wrists, and kissed him back.

They only got to take a moment before a commotion behind them shattered the illusion that it was just them. Steve broke the kiss but rested his brow against Bucky’s for just a little longer, let his hands run down to Bucky’s waist and elbow, Bucky’s hands on Steve’s chest.

Then Steve went back to being the Champion, and Bucky his Vanguard.

Pierce was dragged in front of them, along with Stane and Ross. They were gagged and bound with nullifiers and making frantic noises. Under the full power of Steve’s gaze, they quickly fell silent – all but one.

“I found someone with a very interesting story to tell at the other side of a tesseract maze,” Steve said, pointing at Zola but looking at Pierce. “I’m curious to hear what you have to say about it.” He signalled the guard behind Pierce, who removed the gag.

“This is an outrage!” Pierce bellowed. “These ingrates have disgraced the Lady’s blessed name by falsely accusing us – their _Temple Guardians_ –“

Steve signalled again and the guard immediately put the gag back on, grinning wildly. Pierce’s eyes bulged and his face went completely red. He was still attempting to shout.

“I think you misunderstand,” Steve said. “I have all the proof I need that you worked with these people to try and kill me, reclaim your _asset_ and take over the leadership of this faith. What I want to know is what drove you to betray everything we stand for, if any of you ever really served Sehanine at all.” He gestured at the other captive Guardians as he said this. Ross seemed quite offended.

Steve signalled the guard again. This time, Pierce seemed to have learned.

“I resent these accusations,” he said, somewhat calmly. “I’ve never seen that man before in my life, and I don’t know anything about his plans.”

“Try again,” Steve said, and pulled back the tarp. People gasped. “Zola’s work space was guarded by more than a tesseract. Johann Schmidt was also there. Your best friend since you were young men coming up in the clergy. Your main competitor for any of the positions either of you have ever held. Your right hand man once you were named Temple Guardian until he disappeared quite tragically. Zola tells me he came to guard and… motivate him, under your orders. He also tells me you came by to check on their progress every so often. He’s seen Rumlow before, too.”

“He’s obviously a liar,” Pierce bit. “Johann disappeared years ago. I thought he was dead. He did all this by himself.”

“That’s not what Schmidt said, before Steve killed him,” Natasha said sweetly. “He told us all about how we would come back to a conquered Citadel, courtesy of you and Hydra’s vast army.”

“All of Zola’s confessions were made under a zone of truth spell I cast myself,” Steve added. “I’ll repeat the question one more time, Pierce.” He drew his sword. “Are you a traitor to your faith, or did you never serve the Moonbow at all?”

Bucky wondered if Pierce realised just how angry Steve really was. If he fully realised his life depended on the answer. If he should kill the man himself right now and save Steve the trouble.

Pierce stared at Steve, who simply waited him out.

“Surely you’re not taking their word over mine,” he tried again, but he looked to Fury this time. “You know me, Nick. We’ve worked and prayed together. Tell him he’s making a mistake!”

Fury crossed his arms and frowned at him. “Just answer the question, Alex. That’s the only issue you need to worry about right now. We can talk about everything else after.”

“Who do you worship, _Alex_?” Bucky cajoled. “I bet I know. I bet you’ve been a devoted follower all your life, you and your dead buddy here, and you couldn’t wait to come here and pave the way, to infiltrate one of the largest faiths on this plane and usurp it. Steve turning up must have been quite the bump in the road, but then suddenly there was an even better opportunity, to make sure the new, vast resources of Moonbow Citadel would be taken out of the hands of someone who uses them to prop up the _weak_ and instead put them towards imposing order over all who need it, who crave to be ruled by the strong and the righteous. And what a jewel in your crown it would have been to return the Fist of Hydra to its rightful goal, am I right?”

He flexed his metal fingers in front of Pierce’s face.

“Both the artefact and the bearer so unfortunately attached to it. It must have felt like fate when I turned up here. I wish I’d have pissed you off a lot more often in the past ten years. I’ll have to content myself with rooting out every last Hydra-worshipping bastard left on this plane and any other, squandering a lot more resources on the undeserving and making a world that’s everything you wish it wasn’t, using the power you gave me to do it, until your gods shrivel to nothing and will never be remembered again.”

Pierce visibly snapped. He lurched forward, calling on a power Sehanine definitely hadn’t given him. Bucky felt cold fingers trying to worm their way into his brain, heard alien yet familiar voices whisper to him in dark languages, calling him back to the void, back to the frozen embrace of the Hydra.

Steve’s sword fell.

Pierce’s head rolled over the floor.

Bucky took a deep breath and then Wanda was there, and Natasha, to keep him upright, while Steve flicked the blood off his blade and whipped it back up to point at the next Temple Guardian in the line-up.

“Same question,” he barked. “Did you betray the ideals of Sehanine Moonbow or did you never serve her at all?”

He signalled the guards and the gags came off. The suspects looked from Pierce’s corpse to each other, struggling for words.

“I’ll admit we don’t agree with many of the changes that have been made since you’ve stepped up as Champion,” Ross finally said.

“We’ve known Pierce longer than you and he made a lot of good points,” Stane added.

“Everything’s been changing so fast for the past ten, fifteen years,” Ross said. “I guess we though too much about ourselves and our position and too little about the will of the Moonbow. Once the siege started, it seemed too late to do anything about the things we’d helped set in motion.”

“Very well,” Steve said. “She has not cast you from Her favour yet so obviously She feels you can learn and still serve Her well. To that end you will be relieved of your duty as Temple Guardians to go back to serving Her more directly. Less paperwork is good for the soul.”

A few people in the audience guffawed. Bucky was pretty sure it was the Howlies.

“Don’t mistake this for lenience,” Steve added, steel in his voice. “I believe in second chances. There will not be a third.”

He signalled the guards again, who freed both men.

“Report to Temple Guardian Carter in the morning, along with your aids,” Steve said, and then at full volume, “everyone dismissed. Get some rest if you can.”

Natasha squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and went to help Clint drag Zola to a cell. Bucky hoped it would be the one right next to Rumlow and Rollins. A few guards were already carrying Pierce and Schmidt away.

The Temple Guardians descended on Steve, leaving Bucky and Wanda standing to the side a little awkwardly. The Howlies quickly found them and all at once tried to tell Bucky their already greatly exaggerated exploits, but he found he couldn’t focus. His gaze kept drifting to Steve’s back and he could only parse every other word that was being said to him. Steve kept glancing over his shoulder, catching his eye.

Bucky felt like he would vibrate out of his skin. He hadn’t slept in a week and all he wanted was for Steve to kiss him again so he would know he hadn’t fallen asleep on the wall and this was all a fever dream that would shatter to pieces any moment now.

And then Steve was making his way over to him and sending everyone else to eat and rest, and Bucky let him pull him in, arm round his waist and shoulder, hand in Bucky’s neck to urge him to tuck his head in, and let Steve shield him from the rest of the world, lead him through familiar corridors back to Bucky’s own rooms.

As soon as the door fell shut they were on each other, Steve kissing him like it was the only thing that could sustain him and Bucky pulling him in as close as possible, _climbing_ him in desperation, and Steve took his weight like it was nothing even before he gasped out the phrases to dismiss their equipment.

“Tell me this is real,” Bucky begged, hands buried in Steve’s hair, one leg hooked over his hip, the other wrapped around his knee.

“I’m strong enough now, Buck,” Steve swore. “I love you so much; I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

Bucky just shook his head and kissed him again, groaned into his mouth.

“I love you too, Stevie, I can’t even tell you how much.”

“I understand now,” Steve was saying between kisses, quick presses of his lips to any skin he could reach. “You’re in this with me, we’re in this together, so this is not a choice between you and Her, between you and the work, it’s _our work_, it’s been ours all along, you’ve been mine all along and I’ve been yours and I just couldn’t understand it.”

“I’m your Vanguard, Stevie,” Bucky reminded him. “That means that while you shield the world, I shield you, but it also means that I’m your shield and you’re my sword, like today, like just now, when you cut off one of Hydra’s heads for me, to save me.”

He licked into Steve’s mouth, breathless, and Steve tightened his grip even more, hoisted him up so he could wrap both legs around Steve’s waist.

“I would have torn it off with my bare hands,” Steve replied, when they next came up for air, and Bucky groaned again, kissed him again.

“Can I take you to bed, Bucky?” Steve begged, biting at his jaw.

“Yes. Please, yes,” Bucky moaned.

“You’re not too tired? Peggy said you haven’t slept in a week, but that was probably to get me to scold you.”

“Er,” Bucky said.

“Bucky,” Steve said.

“In my defence,” Bucky said.

Steve considered the situation and came to a quick decision. “Defend yourself in the morning,” he said, and carried Bucky to the bed, crawled onto it before he laid him down, covered him with his warm weight, used one hand to urge him to keep his legs around him and cupped the base of Bucky’s skull in the other, kissed him, kissed him, kissed him.

They managed their way out of their remaining clothing until they were skin to skin and still not close enough. Bucky arched up, pressing into him, and Steve ground down, helplessly, breathless with it. He snuck a hand between them, wrapped both of them in strong, calloused fingers, stroked up and twisted his wrist on the way back down, did it again, and again. Bucky sobbed into his mouth, clawed at his back, hitched his legs higher, wanted Steve to sink into him so they would never be apart again. Steve shuddered above him and spilled, bit down on Bucky’s neck and sent him over the edge, too.

They lay catching their breath for a little while, but eventually Steve lifted himself off him and rolled to the side. Bucky couldn’t help the desperate whine that escaped him at the loss of Steve’s weight, but Steve gathered him close, tucked him under his chin and wrapped arms and legs around him. Bucky clung to him, suddenly sure again it wasn’t really happening.

“I’m so scared that if I go to sleep, you’ll be gone again,” he said.

“Then I’ll just find my way back to you again,” Steve swore. “No one is taking you away from me ever again. Go to sleep, sweetheart. It’s over. Everyone is safe. You can rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Bucky couldn’t manage any words, so he just nodded, rubbing his nose along Steve’s sternum.

“We’re doing more of this tomorrow,” he finally grumbled, and cleaned both of them up with a thought.

Steve buried his fingers in Bucky’s hair and used his grip to tilt his head back so he could kiss him, filthy and full of promise.

“Ngk,” Bucky said when Steve pulled back again. Steve grinned smugly. “Sleep now, before I make you,” he said.

“I love you,” Bucky said.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Steve replied, and rearranged them so Bucky could sleep pillowed on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, warm, safe and loved.

Bucky woke up with the sun on his face. He dozed for just a little longer. Something niggled at him, something he was forgetting. Was he supposed to be at an extra early meeting? He shifted and groaned. Every muscle and bone ached. The events of the previous days and weeks came rushing back all at once and he panicked.

“Steve?” he called, ignoring his body’s protests to sit bolt upright.

“Hey, easy,” Steve said, leaning across the bed to put his hands on him, book tumbling to the side.

He’d been propped up by a nest of pillows stacked against the footboard. Bucky’d only had to turn his head to see him and felt a bit foolish.

“I’m here,” Steve said, soothing, and the panic ebbed away fully.

“Hey,” Bucky said. “You’re up early.”

“Lots to be taken care of,” Steve said ruefully. “Peggy gave me a day to get used to being me again but that was all.”

Bucky frowned in confusion. It scrunched up his face so adorably that Steve couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him.

“Oh,” Bucky breathed when they broke apart, “that wasn’t a dream.”

“No,” Steve smiled.

“Kiss me again,” Bucky said, and Steve happily obliged, quite thoroughly.

When Bucky snuck warm fingers under his tunic he groaned and grabbed at his wrists.

“I can’t, sweetheart, I have to go see the Temple Guardians off,” he said in between kisses. “Wanda will be here any moment; we’ve been keeping you company so you wouldn’t wake up alone.”

Bucky frowned again. “How long was I out for?” he asked.

“This is the third day since I came back,” Steve said. “You’ve been up for a week on nothing but boosters, I honestly expected you to sleep through most of today, too.”

“I am _really_ hungry,” Bucky realised. Steve laughed.

There was a quick knock on the bedroom door and Wanda came in, hand over her eyes but obviously peeking.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said, dropping her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Bucky said, feeling every ache and pain again now that the high of kissing Steve was wearing off. “Hungry.”

“That I can do something about,” she smiled.

“Go see Helen when you’re done. I want her to check whether Pierce left anything behind with that last spell. I’ll heal the rest of your ailments afterwards,” Steve said with a final kiss. “Wanda, make sure he goes.”

“Yes, Champion,” she grinned.

“Yes, mum,” Bucky griped.

Steve groused at them as he climbed off the bed and went to his work.

“He’s probably right about going to see Helen,” Bucky sighed.

“Usually is,” Wanda agreed. “Breakfast first, though. Come on.”

“There’s one thing that’s still bothering me,” Bucky said.

He and Wanda were dozing outside after lunch, him on his back, left leg pulled up, right ankle on his left knee, her propped up on her elbows, ankles crossed. Helen had given him the clear and a good dosing of healing magic and he felt like he could think straight for the first time in weeks.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“How spectacularly that Mythal misfired. They must have intended for it to be a killing ritual. When you have that kind of power, how do you mess up that badly? They tried to make it work for them, sure, but I feel we’re still missing something.”

Wanda mulled this over.

“You know better than almost anyone how magic works on the different planes,” she said. “The gods on this one may be more abstract and removed from their followers, but they’re still here, still tuned in and connected. Pierce may have managed to convince the others they were acting for the good of the faith and the faithful, but they forgot that the goddess they purport to serve actually exists. She gave them the powers they were going to be using to try and kill Her chosen champion. So that means a divine ritual was right out. She simply would never have allowed it to activate – probably’d have made it blow up in their faces. And Pierce couldn’t do anything without revealing he had a different kind of magic – might not even have been able to access all of his power, because his gods have less of a foothold on this plane.”

“So they had to turn to arcane magic, except none of them have any.”

“Which is where Zola came in, and whatever Hydra support he had in setting up the Mythals.” Wanda put the other ankle on top. “You’re right that they probably intended to kill Steve, Strange and Christine, and enslave you again while they were at it. With you all out of the way, they would have the resources of the Citadel and three mythalar to power anything they could dream up. Zola was certainly clever enough to set up the Mythal properly.”

“So what happened? Not only did it not affect me or Strange, the amnesia thing was just… eugh!” Bucky asked again, frustratedly gesturing at the clouds as it they would rain down answers.

“The gods of this plane are abstracts, ideas, ideals. But not yours. Yours are people, yours are alive and close and tangible. So when you moved here...” Wanda said, shaking her hair out and rolling her head back to look at him.

He sat upright and stared back at her.

“So when you came here,” she went on, eyes shining, “you brought your goddess with you. A goddess of death and magic, suddenly tied into the Weave of a plane where the gods of magic don’t take an active role in directing the energies that get called upon. It’s not Her own Weave, so there are limits, sure, but such a goddess could still achieve a lot. Make certain artefacts more efficient, less straining, less painful.”

Bucky balled his left hand into a fist. He’d always thought it was Steve’s doing.

“She could strengthen some spells and cause others to fizzle. Make some rituals balance out, and give others... a nudge.”

“A nudge,” Bucky repeated dumbly.

“I’m sorry the past two months have been so distressing for you, Bucky. But I hoped I could kill a few birds with one stone,” Wanda said, sitting up too and covering Bucky’s still clenched hand with her own. “I want you to be happy and to have everything. Like Sehanine wants for Steve.”

Bucky swallowed, looked from their hands to her face.

“You’re staying, though,” he finally said. It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I’m staying,” she smiled. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes!”

He laughed and pulled her in for a hug, her tucking her head into his neck and him kissing her crown and rocking them gently.

“As long as you walk this plane, I will be beside you,” she said. “This is the best time I can ever remember having, and I can’t very well leave my High Priest without a goddess.”

“If you ever call me that again, I’m sending you home to your actual clerics,” Bucky threatened.

Wanda laughed, clear and happy, and Bucky held her tight and loved her. 

Steve found them there a few hours later. There was a still half-full tray of snacks next to them, ready to be finished before dinner.

“Have the two of you been lying around here all day?” he said, not quite sternly.

“I have divine permission,” Bucky said. “Also a doctor’s note.”

“Do you now,” Steve smiled, and plonked down next to him and stole something sweet off their tray.

“Everything checked out fine, but Helen threatened bodily harm if he didn’t spend the whole day resting and eating,” Wanda said.

“Chocolate covered popcorn is probably not what she had in mind,” Steve said, popping another kernel into his mouth.

“She did not specify,” Bucky sniffed.

“Are you done for the day?” Wanda asked.

“Even if I’m not, the rest can wait,” Steve said. “I want a nap.” He gathered Bucky close and settled in.

“You’re the Champion,” Wanda said sagely. “You can make these kinds of executive decisions.”

“You’re damned right I can,” Steve said, and the three of them dozed in the sun until Sam came to find them for dinner.

Dinner devolved into a spontaneous theatre performance, where the Howlies regaled their audience with a riveting retelling of the Siege of the Citadel, in spite of the fact that none of them had been present for it. Bucky feared the embarrassing worst, but the Howlies talked about the incredible feats performed by the Guardians and their aids and the less flashy but even more important heroics of every single warrior that had fought in the battle, and mostly didn’t embellish their Vanguard’s contributions. Still Bucky hunched down as much as possible and hid his face in Steve’s armpit, who kept his arm around Bucky’s shoulders the whole evening and didn’t care who saw him kissing his love whenever the mood struck.

They went to service when the moon rose, and Buck and Wanda stood in the back, arm in arm, and watched and listened.

“Everything as it should be,” she said happily.

“I almost can’t believe it,” he replied.

“Give it a few more days,” she said. “We’ll all get used to our normal routines again soon enough.”

“You want to go back to scroll work tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Definitely. Tell Steve goodnight for me, will you?” She kissed his cheek and went to bed.

Bucky walked back out to the mess terrace and sat down with another cup of tea. It was edging into summer now and the air was warm and smelled of flowers.

Steve joined him some time later, cradling a mug of coffee.

“Wanda said to tell you good night,” Bucky said.

“Is she doing okay after this whole thing?” Steve asked, sitting down right next to him and pressing his thigh into Bucky’s.

“Oh, not to worry,” Bucky said drily, “she’s just fine.”

“What about you?” Steve said.

“I’m still not sure any of this is really happening,” Bucky admitted. “The past weeks have been so distressing that it’s a little surreal that everything is mostly back to normal now.”

“I’m still trying to make sense of it all, too,” Steve said. “Would it be too weird if I said I’m kind of happy it did?” He leaned in for a tender kiss.

“I think I know what you mean,” Bucky said when they broke apart. “We defeated an enemy we had no idea was after us, and things could have gone a lot worse.”

“And I had a think about my priorities,” Steve said carefully. Bucky’s heart missed a beat.

“I didn’t mean to overhear, but I did,” Steve confessed.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” Bucky said. “I don’t mind. I’m really sorry I didn’t handle the whole thing better.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t apologise. The whole situation was a nightmare, of course I wouldn’t expect you to just handle it. No one could.”

Bucky hugged him as close as he could.

“We’re all right now,” Steve said. “We’re safe, and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bucky said.

“Time for bed, I think,” Steve said.

“Probably best, yeah,” Bucky agreed.

They lingered for a little longer.

“Come on, Buck,” Steve finally said, getting up and holding out a hand.

Bucky let himself be pulled to his feet and they walked through the quiet Citadel, bumping shoulders, until they came to the last intersection.

“Your rooms or mine?” Bucky asked.

“I know you like to be up with the dawn but tomorrow morning we are sleeping in and I don’t want the sun in my eyes at no-thank-you-o’clock in the morning,” Steve groused.

“Yours it is,” Bucky smiled.

They settled in as if this was how they’d always done it, nestled together under the covers with Bucky on the side of the window and Steve on the side of the door.

“Sweet dreams, Stevie,” Bucky said.

Steve kissed his temple. “Good night, Buck,” he said.

If they dreamed, they didn’t remember.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](%E2%80%9Daeremaee.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)!


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